


Those Who Crave Freedom

by yoongi_in_august



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: A Strange AU where Historical Korea has the customs of Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Joseon, Angst, But He Plays An Important Role, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub Play, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame yoonmin, Enemies to Friends, Gladiator Maknae Line, Gladiators, Hoseok Is The Only Free Man And Does Not Appear Until Later In The Narrative, Hurt/Comfort, Jeon Jungkook is So Done, Jimin is a BAMF, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin Are Best Friends, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Smut, Misunderstandings, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Sexual Slavery, Past Sugamon/Namgi, Rebellion, Romance, Sad Min Yoongi | Suga, Slow Burn, Smut, So much angst, Threats of Violence, Which Is Period Typical To Both Joseon and Rome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoongi_in_august/pseuds/yoongi_in_august
Summary: Their life was simple: fight in the games, earn money, and hope you survive long enough to buy your freedom. Either that, or you'll die on the sands as a gladiator.Jimin knew what his life entailed, and while he desperately desired money and freedom, the glory which came from triumphing in the arena was all too tempting. His best friend Taehyung just wanted to survive on the sands.Their new life under the hostile Master Doyun wasn't easy. Train, fight, kill. Repeat. They were training among the best gladiators in Joseon, after all, and had to reach that standard fast. But not everyone was so willing to accept them or ready to help: Jeon Jungkook, the resident golden gladiator, doesn't need another rival. Namjoon, the head trainer appointed by Master Doyun, doesn't need two new headaches. And Yoongi? Yoongi doesn't need another heartbreak.*FINALLY UPDATED*





	1. Prologue: The Enemy's Match

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to my Historical Korea-Rome fusion fic! I have a deep love of gladiator AUs and Joseon AUs and somehow managed to combine the two! 
> 
> This chapter serves as a prologue to the fic - however it takes place two months after the official "start" of the story (chapter 2 will see a bounce back in time.) 
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> Obviously because it is a gladiator AU, it will contain scenes of violence, however due to my own personal triggers it will rarely be graphic. Also, because Rome/Joseon both had slavery systems in place, this will be an intrinsic part of this fic. The main theme is the characters' desire for freedom and their attempts to acquire it. The characters who aren't free will face hardships, however I will NOT write non-con or dub-con sexual scenes. If these are your triggers, I guarantee no scenes will appear. (Please keep in mind though that there may be scenes of punishment and uncomfortable interactions with the Master!) 
> 
> The Master "Kang Doyun" is an original character. I didn't want to base him off of anyone, as he is the main villain. 
> 
> Finally, I will use the occasional historical term, but will try to put its translation in the text... however, every word will have a full description in the end notes in each chapter.

 

Jimin’s blood-stained hands gripped the bars of the gate as he watched his enemy twist in an attempt to avoid his opponent’s sword.

 

Fuck. Not fast enough.

 

The hwando was a nasty blade which had slashed Jimin’s skin many times, once near fatal, and he winced in sympathy as it sliced into Jungkook’s shoulder. The resulting howl was piercing and Jimin could not fault him for reacting so loudly.

 

Jungkook may be his enemy in their Ludus, the gladiatorial training centre, but Jimin needed him to win. They had to promote their Master’s skill as a trainer, the capabilities of all men from their Ludus, and of course it was also a matter of pride; gladiators craved winning, pure and simple. Jungkook and Jimin had discussed that desire at length during late night truces - evening would fall and they would talk openly, hesitantly, as if they were friends, and when dawn arrived they would return to killing each other with training swords. 

 

The win would also earn Jungkook more money to put toward buying his freedom, and once Jungkook was free, he’d gather the funds to buy or free Taehyung. If Jimin couldn't save Taehyung, he'd damn well make sure Jungkook would. 

 

Taehyung, who was Jimin’s best friend.

Taehyung, who had managed to win his first ever fight on the sands today.

Taehyung, who was currently viewing the match with an expression of pure horror as his lover was kicked to the ground.

 

“Master wanted his two Busan boys against that monster,” Jimin said, his eyes never leaving the one-to-one fight. It was the Primus, the final and most important fight, where the masters would pit their best gladiators together. Everyone watching knew the monster facing Jungkook was too large, too brutish, to face off against one singular fighter. Two or more were needed to take the fucker down, and Jimin _should_ be in the arena helping his enemy, not watching his slow death from the side lines. “I wish he hadn’t placed me in an earlier fight.”

 

Namjoon hummed and gripped Taehyung’s shoulders tighter, hoping to subtly comfort the man, “I wish I knew what Jungkook did to piss Master Doyun off. This match is... unfair.”

 

“A death sentence,” Jimin corrected, wincing when he heard Taehyung’s responding whimper. “Taehyung, I refuse to soften my words. Look at where we are and what's in front of us. If you hate the sight, turn and face Namjoon.”

 

The three men were the only gladiators from Master Kang Doyun’s Ludus who would go home after today’s competition. Their Master had submitted six men to fight, three died, Jimin and Taehyung won, and Jungkook was on the sands before them in the final match.

 

Namjoon was no longer an active gladiator due to a wound he had acquired during one particularly nasty match. Master Doyun decided Namjoon’s experience as a gladiator was too useful, and refused to sell or dispose of him. A deal had been offered: Namjoon would serve as the 'Doctore,' the lead trainer of the Kang Ludus, doing the dirty work on the field while the Master organised fights, bought and sold gladiators, and kept their financial records. In return, Master Doyun would feed a tiny portion of his money into Namjoon’s own pot every month as a thank you for bringing in dozens of past wins, thus earning a huge supply of prize money, fame, and glory for the Kang Ludus. 

 

The moment Namjoon earned enough money and trained a replacement Doctore, he would be allowed to buy his freedom.

 

“Shit. Fuck. I trained you better than that, Jeon!” Namjoon shouted suddenly as Jungkook scrambled to his feet and was instantly lifted by his neck into the air. The monster slammed him back down to the ground and all three men winced at the thud.

 

“There go his ribs.”

 

“Stop it Jimin. Don’t be a dick.”

 

“I’m not being a dick, Tae! I’m just saying!”

 

“Well don't! Clearly you have spent too much of your time with-”

 

“Taehyung, don't look!” Namjoon’s voice interrupted sharply.

 

Jimin turned around and caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s hands covering Taehyung’s eyes, protecting him from the sight which would soon unfold before them. Taehyung usually had a stronger stomach; after all, he did just kill his opponent, but it was his _lover_ who had a sword pressed against his neck, not an unknown gladiator.

 

The opponent looked up at the magistrate and waited for the signal. The nobleman viewed the match from his box and held every last drop of power over the competition; Master Doyun could not interfere now to save his prized fighter. One simple thumbs down would be all the permission the monster needed to kill Jungkook. There was still a  _tiny_ chance the magistrate would have mercy on the famed gladiator from Busan, but Jimin did not believe this would have a positive outcome. Their lives were just too unlucky. 

 

Jimin had longed for the day when he would triumph over Jungkook and take the top place in the Ludus… but he had not wanted this. He never wanted the other to die. They were two Busan boys, thrust into circumstances where being enemies proved more useful than friendship. Only one could fully bask in the glory of the arena, truly, there could not be two champions. 

 

“Let him live. Please let him live,” Jimin whispered, resting his forehead against the cool metal of the bars.

 

The magistrate slowly stood and with his commanding tone, asked the audience whether the gladiator should be spared. He looked gleeful, entertained, and ready to pass judgment on _his_ terms, regardless of the crowd’s cries for blood or mercy. He would choose whether Jungkook would be granted a thumbs up or down.

 

“Let him live!” Jimin said louder, his voice blending in with the conflicted opinions of the crowd. Some screamed similar sentiments, while others chanted: “Kill. Kill. Kill.”

 

The audience eventually hushed and all eyes were on the magistrate as he lifted his hand to the sky.

 

A showman’s grin. A gesture. And Jungkook’s fate was sealed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue/introduction is short and sweet - a way to hopefully intrigue my audience! My main chapters will generally be longer.
> 
> I intend to update once a week; every Tuesday unless stated otherwise.
> 
> If you have any comments/questions, please leave them! I'm always happy for feedback.
> 
> Translations:  
> Ludus - The place gladiators are trained.  
> Doctore - The gladiator who is appointed as lead trainer.  
> Primus - The main event of the gladiator games.  
> Hwando - A type of Korean blade.


	2. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter takes place two months prior to the events of chapter 1! We jump back in time to see how everyone got to that spot. Chapters 2-10 will lead us up to the games. 
> 
> This is a mostly introductory chapter, where we get to see initial personalities and impressions - some will last (Master Kang will never be pleasant), and some people will soften as they get to know Jimin/Tae (I'm looking at you, Jungkookie!) I'm a little nervous about this chapter because it seems very world-building based, but I promise more plot will be coming soon!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind comments left on chapter 1 and the kudos and subscriptions! I'm really happy people are interested and I hope I do this justice!

 

Jimin eyed the group of gladiators gathered to witness the arrival of the newest trainees. It was always humiliating to be led around in chains, but he felt especially helpless before this particular crowd. Most of the men had somewhat bloodthirsty expressions, but one or two just appeared intrigued and curious. The angrier of the bunch did not intimidate Jimin, as he knew the moment he got his hands on a weapon, he could impress them, and even overpower them in combat.

 

They approached the center of the training area to be presented to the Master of the Ludus. Jimin walked on one side of Merchant Yu, while Taehyung flanked the other side; both were bound in chains, which were held firmly in the Merchant’s hand. As they walked, Merchant Yu suddenly made a noise of dissatisfaction, and he stopped to smack Taehyung on the back of his head, “Don’t look at your new Master until commanded.”

 

The gesture earned a sharp gasp from Taehyung.

 

Jimin internally groaned, realizing that while his attention was occupied by the group before them, Taehyung had been looking at the balcony above the training ground. A subtle glance up was all it took for Jimin to see the grandly dressed Master, who was leaning over the edge of the railing to get a better look at the new acquisitions. Standing behind him were two servants; one man with a beautiful face, who held a jug of water in his hands, and a woman who fanned the Master slowly.

 

“Stop. Stand there. Feet apart, back straight, heads bowed, no, fuck your posture’s bad, straighter, straighter,” the Merchant spat, this time whacking Jimin’s back with a short, thick cut of leather. Jimin grimaced but quickly fixed his stance, trying to ignore the stinging sensation on his skin.

 

“I present to you, Master Kang, your two new gladiators. The short one is called Jimin. He won four fights across three separate tournaments, one of which was a Primus. He was the only gladiator worth purchasing from Master Lee.”

 

“Oh really?” Kang Doyun replied lazily, looking rather annoyed by the Merchant’s words, “Explain to me why you brought two people to my sands then, Merchant Yu.”

 

“Because you instructed me to bring the gladiators with the highest potential. Taehyung here is tall, strong, and-”

 

“How many wins?” Doyun interrupted.

 

“Sir,” Merchant Yu said, not particularly wanting to answer that question.

 

“How many wins, Yu?”

 

“None, but-”

 

Jimin looked over at Taehyung, his stomach begin to churn as he thought about the possible outcome of this presentation. He had seen the most gruesome sights in the gladiator arena, having lobbed off limbs, sliced necks, and even plunged a sword into someone’s heart, but those memories didn't induce any real sickness compared to the fear of being separated from his only real friend. If Taehyung got sent to the mines or a brothel, he wouldn't know what to do or how to go on. 

 

Taehyung was shaking so hard that his chains rattled and Jimin wanted nothing more than to reach out and take his hand - impossible, as both men had their wrists bound. 

 

“Master Doyun... if I may?”

 

It was a tall man near the front of the group who spoke. He walked forward, trading the shade under the balcony for a position where their Master could see and regard him. Obviously the man held a different status to the rest of the gladiators, given the fact he was the only person properly clothed. All other gladiators, including Taehyung and Jimin, were shirtless and only wore subligacula, a garment similar to shorts. When the man stopped in front of Jimin, he noticed the whip tucked into the belt around his tunic.

 

“Namjoon, this better be good. You know how I feel about interruptions.”

 

“Master, I believe your exact words in the message to Merchant Yu were: I am supplying you with a bag of _mun_. Use it to buy the top gladiators from the Master Lee’s Ludus. I do not know how far the money will stretch, but ensure I obtain as many as possible with the amount supplied.”

 

Master Doyun was silent for a moment, pondering Namjoon's words, before he scowled again, “So I only get two gladiators with that amount of _mun_?”

 

“Master, Jimin was expensive. Once purchased, I only had enough for one more and the rest were all similarly priced. So I chose Taehyung because he was-”

 

“The best of a bad bunch?”

 

“The most trainable,” Merchant Yu said quickly, clearly wishing this conversation would be over.

 

“Aish, fine. Very well. Namjoon, ensure Taehyung is rigorously trained. I want him at Jimin’s level,” Doyun said, turning on his heel. “Start now. Merchant Yu, you are dismissed.” The Master walked inside with his two servants trotting behind him.

 

Merchant Yu walked behind Taehyung and grabbed his arm roughly so he could unlock his chains. He repeated the action with Jimin, and it took everything in Jimin’s power not to punch him once his hands were free. Both Taehyung and Jimin refused to break their stances until their new doctore had addressed them. They were not foolish enough to relax, lest that whip make its first appearance. The Merchant was escorted out by one of Master Doyun’s guards and Jimin and Taehyung were left standing on the sands, vulnerable to the scrutiny of the twenty or so gladiators before them.

 

“Well, Taehyung, you can be thankful that Master Doyun chose to ignore his... displeasure of your purchase,” Namjoon said, turning around to face the two new recruits. “And Jimin… you better be as good as they say. For your own sake.”

 

Both men continued to be silent, simply keeping their backs straight, but this time they both raised their chins to show they were not cowards among their fellow kind.

 

“At least you know how things work around here,” Namjoon added, somehow sounding quite impressed underneath his stern tone. “My name is Namjoon, I am your doctore. You'll report to me. I will train you hard and if you listen to me, you _will_ keep your lives.”

 

“Oh Namjoon-hyung, I can already tell what’s going through Jimin’s mind.”

 

The owner of the voice stepped forward from the crowd. He had broad shoulders and a muscled chest, although his facial features were softer. His long hair was swept back into a bun; a curious feature, as most gladiators kept their hair short. It was practical, as in the arena a gladiator could easily grab his rival’s bun and manipulate him. Short hair also indicated they were from the lower rungs of society, uncaring of what was fashionable.  Most Masters cut their gladiators’ hair for these reasons, but it seemed the shear was optional in this Ludus. _Perhaps Taehyung could grow out his beautiful hair again,_ Jimin mused. _He looked so pretty when he arrived at Master Lee's._

 

“Jungkook-ah, what have I told you about calling me hyung?” Namjoon snapped, although he was clearly trying to hide a smile. “Start training. Don’t get involved.”

 

Jungkook ignored Namjoon’s sternness and stalked over to the two new trainees with an expression of pure intrigue and amusement. When he stopped in front of Jimin, he laughed, “Wow. You’re really… short. Are you sure you’re the gladiator everyone adores?”

 

Jimin stayed silent, holding his chin up higher.

 

“And you look so soft. Look at those cheeks. Those pouty lips.” Jungkook continued assessing Jimin’s appearance, taking pleasure in the fact he couldn't talk back. “And you’re Taehyung? Pretty.” 

 

Taehyung looked surprised at the attention and he opened his mouth to reply. However, a sharp elbow to the ribs from Jimin was enough to stop him, and he looked back down at his feet.

 

“Jungkook. Enough,” Namjoon said, this time genuinely appearing irritated with his dongsaeng. “Jungkook here is our best fighter. Mouthy, arrogant, but the best. Everyone is excellent of course, but Jungkook is… something special. Jimin, you may have been at the top, but you need to prove your worth here. Taehyung… just try keep up. I won’t expect amazing skills right now, but you have to improve them. Strive for perfection. You both may speak now.”

 

“Thank you, doctore,” Jimin and Taehyung chimed in unison.

 

“Now the rules,” Namjoon began with a grim expression. “You’ve lived in another Ludus before so I know you're familiar with how things work. We wake up at first light, eat, and then begin training. We do stamina, endurance, strength, weaponry technique, attack and defense. Most turn their noses up at my defense classes, but they could just save your life.”

 

“They sound like they’d be helpful,” Taehyung replied with an eager smile. That did... not sound so bad to him. Although the amount of physical exercise would be taxing, he was excited to learn and improve himself.

 

“We train all day and pause only for lunch. Your job is training, your only focus is training. Do not distract yourselves. If you succeed in the arena, you get money,” Namjoon said, briefly wondering what happened to all of Jimin’s previous winnings. Did his old Master keep them when he sold Jimin on? Or did they get added to his prize money here? The thought of losing his savings was petrifying, and Namjoon’s voice grew strained as he spoke. “And we all know what money means: you get enough _mun_ , you can pay Master Doyun for your freedom.”

 

Both Taehyung and Jimin nodded. They knew how it worked; every gladiator did, but it felt good to be reminded. It somehow made their goal seem tangible, not an abstract concept. One day, they really could be free.

 

“As I said, you will report to me. I’m strict because I have to be. I will guide you, I will shape you, and I will make sure you don’t fail and embarrass this Ludus in the arena,” Namjoon said, looking from Jimin to Taehyung, his gaze then briefly flickering over to Jungkook, “If you fuck up your training, I will not hesitate to use this though.” He reached behind and patted his whip.

 

“What constitutes as fucking up?” Jimin ventured carefully.

 

“Fighting properly with other gladiators. Purposefully causing each other real harm outside the arena. Fucking each other - as I said, we do not appreciate distractions in this Ludus and if Master Doyun discovers anyone has fucked, I can guarantee you’ll be shipped off to the mines to work for the rest of your life,” Namjoon’s tone made it clear that he was not joking, and Jimin shuddered. He had been a house slave, worked on a farm, and worked as a gladiator, and did not desire to expand his experience to mining; the conditions were horrendous, disease infested, and many didn't last longer than mere weeks.

 

“Don't go up to the main house unless asked. There is a gate inside our sleeping quarters but it remains locked at all times. Don't try to unlock it. Do not try to escape.”

 

“Pretty simple, yes?” Jungkook said smugly, watching the pair who seemed nervous and uncomfortable. “Easy?”

 

“Yes,” Jimin replied emphatically, deciding that he really, _really_ did not like that gladiator.

 

“Good. I’m glad you understand… means you'll settle in quicker and easier,” Namjoon spoke quickly, so Jungkook could not voice another stupid comment. “Now, I’m afraid the hard work begins here. You don't get to rest. Your chains are off… Go pick up a practice weapon and show me what you can do.”

 

Jimin noticed that a slave had brought out a pile of equipment, ranging from shields and swords, to nets and spears, and dumped it in the middle of the training ground. The other gladiators were slowly making their way to collect their weapons for the day, and Jimin was intrigued. He flashed Taehyung a smile and calmly walked over to the pile, selecting a simple style of sword. “So… who wants to fight?” He called out to the crowd, twirling it in his hand. “Nobody?”

 

“Me.”

 

Ah. Jungkook.

 

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Translations from chapter 2:
> 
> Mun - currency used during the latter centuries of the Joseon era.


	3. Secret Meetings, First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the upstairs section of the Ludus, Namjoon seeks comfort from his lover Seokjin.
> 
> Downstairs... Jimin and Jungkook's rivalry deepens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! My plan is to update every Tuesday, but sometimes I might have chapters that I'm just too excited about and want to share... so surprise!
> 
> I've also written far enough in advance that I can afford to release a chapter early. No panic writing from me!

 

Namjoon could tell the newly purchased gladiators were going to be headaches. The pair, Jimin and Taehyung, had been bought fresh from a Ludus which had its money thoroughly drained by extravagant spending. He had been informed by Master Doyun that the man in charge had spent most of his remaining money purchasing a talented gladiator, hoping that he could send the boy straight to the next Primus and win a fortune. However, he had lost the remainder of his money before Jimin had been given the chance to fight for him, forcing him to sell his ‘savior’ for a fraction of the price he had bought him for.

 

Jimin would be a headache. The gladiator was all smiles and friendliness, but Namjoon noticed the way his gaze constantly flickered around and assessed his competition.

 

The other gladiator purchased, Taehyung, had informed Namjoon that he had voluntarily sold himself as a gladiator to pay off his parents’ debts. Once they had earned money again they would return to save him, or so Taehyung claimed. Namjoon had simply patted him on the head and felt a pang of sympathy for his naivety. Once his parents started to receive Taehyung’s share of his winnings, there was no chance they’d free him and lose that source of plentiful income... they'd keep him as a gladiator, forcing him to win fight after fight until their money bags were overflowing with _mun_ they did not deserve.

 

Taehyung would be a headache because he was too good and pure. Namjoon hated training men like him; being responsible for extinguishing their spirits, and hardening them.

 

Perhaps the men wouldn’t be so difficult to handle, if it weren’t for the fact Jeon Jungkook’s eyes hadn’t left the pair since their arrival three days prior. Jungkook, the Kang Ludus’ prized fighter, had been in a foul mood ever since the soft-looking, unassuming Jimin had picked up a wooden practice sword and demanded someone fight him.

 

It had been a show of dominance that Namjoon could not afford to see, not if he wanted to keep order among his men and earn his freedom, so he cracked his whip against the ground and commanded Jungkook and Jimin to pair up for the day.

 

“That was a mistake,” Namjoon said quietly, as he eased into the servants’ bath. Normally, the gladiators who lived below the main house would wash themselves there, but Namjoon’s higher status granted him access to the bath which was used by servants and house slaves. The room was small, with a bath that could fit four or five comfortably, a potted plant as a pathetic attempt at décor, and little else. “Well? Will you join me?”

 

“Yes, Doctore, I am eager to hear the end of the story.”

 

Namjoon frowned up at Seokjin, confused by his formality, “You have called me by my name for over a year now… why change back?” Both men were slaves, but Namjoon had a status, while Seokjin was a simple house slave. He cooked, cleaned, and maintained a healthy distance from their Master as often as he could.

 

Seokjin gracefully stripped off his clothes and stepped into the cool water, “I'm... afraid of prying ears. A note was slipped under my pillow four nights ago. It read ‘ _distance yourself from him for your own sake_.’ I can't risk someone overhearing a term of endearment.”

 

Thankfully, their current situation wasn’t suspicious in itself. It was not unknown for two servants to bathe together – after all, there was only one bath among a busy household - although he and Namjoon often chose quieter times so they could talk alone.

 

“Someone knows about us?” Namjoon said, suddenly concerned at the prospect of being discovered. Their Master knew deep down that servants, slaves, and gladiators were bound to have personal relationships, but he despised hearing about it and had went far enough to ban it. They were there to serve, not to entertain each other. 

 

“Yes. I... don't think it was a nobleman. It was written too shakily… although clearly by someone somewhat educated, who knows I am literate. One or two servants are potential culprits,” Seokjin said softly, beginning to bathe Namjoon, cupping his hands to gather water then gently pouring it onto his hair. 

 

“And one slave,” Namjoon supplied with a wry grin.

 

“Well. He already knows about us. We told him when you-”

 

"Seokjin." 

 

“Sorry. It’s… unlikely he wrote it though, he’s known for too long!” Seokjin paused for a moment and shook his head. “Perhaps he thinks we’re not exercising enough caution. After all, we always end up in the bath together.” His words were light, perhaps even teasing, but his tone was serious.

 

“Yoongi hates us. I don’t think he’d caution us. His exact words were ‘if you get caught, don’t expect me to defend you,’ don’t you remember?” Namjoon said firmly. “But... he never once indicated that he would betray us.”

 

“And that letter is not of betrayal, but of warning. I think it was him. I also think we should change the subject, this matter is best left unspoken for now. Even whispered arguments may be caught by lurking ears,” Seokjin replied quickly, running his hands over Namjoon’s shoulders, cleaning the Doctore gently. “Tell me more about your gladiators.”

 

“Ah, one stressful topic to another,” Namjoon groaned. “Those three are trouble.” 

 

The inquiring look Seokjin gave him made Namjoon sink down, submerging himself entirely under the water, until he earned himself a sharp tap on the head from Seokjin. “I will kill one of them by the week’s end,” he said the moment he resurfaced. “I had to pull Jungkook and Jimin off each other. It stopped being a training exercise and turned into an actual brawl. Jimin had Jungkook pinned under him and you know Jungkook would have despised that.”

 

Seokjin winced and leaned over to kiss Namjoon’s neck gently in a bid to get him to relax, and this action caused Namjoon to smile. 

 

“So. Now Jungkook has started flirting with Taehyung, because Taehyung and Jimin are close. And Taehyung is oblivious to Jungkook’s true intent and flirts back," Namjoon continued, slightly more relaxed now that Seokjin was pampering him with soft kisses to his neck. 

 

“Are Jimin and Taehyung lovers?”

 

“I don’t think so. But Taehyung is the only friend Jimin has here… so distracting his attention is a good way to isolate him. To make Jimin feel alone,” Namjoon explained. He would be impressed with the tactic if it weren’t for the fact it would cause him to go grey early.

 

“What one will end up earning your whip first I wonder?”

 

Namjoon grimaced and sank down again, this time resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Hopefully neither. You know I hate that thing. Only time I use it is when Master orders me, so as long as they don’t act up while he's around, it won’t be used.”

 

The room was quiet for a moment, before Seokjin spoke slowly, “You’re too gentle to be in this position.”

 

“And yet I must. How else will I be able to buy our freedom?”

 

Seokjin sighed and kissed the top of Namjoon’s head, wishing his lover did not need to carry that burden. “We are almost there. Your funds are so _so_ high... and perhaps Jimin or Jungkook may be the new Doctore. You could start to train them to take over.”

 

“Those two? They are not disciplined, too headstrong, and believe that their respective wins are enough to bring them glory,” Namjoon snorted, then he playfully splashed Seokjin, who spluttered and then gave Namjoon his most infamous, dangerous look.

 

“Kim Namjoon, you forget yourself around your hyung.”

 

Before Namjoon knew what was happening, he was trapped with his back against the bath and Seokjin straddling his thighs. His lover’s lips pressed against his, and Namjoon allowed himself to kiss back, just for a moment.

 

“What happened to your paranoia, Seokjin-hyung?” He teased when their kiss broke, staring up at his lover.

 

“It’s late at night. Most are asleep and the door to the bathhouse is shut,” Seokjin reasoned, although the truth was that he regretted that they always had such little time together, and his desire to fuck was greater than his fear of being caught. “But I suppose you are right,” he lamented, climbing off his lap to settle down beside him again. “… Subtlety is required.”

 

Namjoon tilted his head back in pleasure as Seokjin reached down below the surface of the water and took hold of his length. Seokjin began to stroke him lazily and his eyes fluttered shut. If anyone walked in, Seokjin could easily let go, which was reassuring to them both - not that they cared much about that in the past; their relationship was full of risks.

 

Namjoon’s own hand curved around Seokjin’s thigh and firmly tugged him closer, “Go back to where you were. Fuck subtlety.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“When Doctore’s away, the mice will play.”

 

Jimin jolted awake and stared up into the dark eyes of his competitor. “I was sleeping,” he protested, turning on his side because he _really_ did not want to deal with Jungkook right now.

 

“Get up. Unless you want to admit I’m better?”

 

Jimin didn’t need to see Jungkook’s face to know he was smirking down at him. “What do you want from me? A fight? It’s the middle of the night.”

 

“It's late evening and the sun has just set... We have free reign of the training field. And Namjoon is occupied upstairs in the main house, whoever he’s doing… he’ll be a while.”

 

“Don’t you mean whatever?” Jimin asked, sitting up because he knew the gladiator wouldn't leave him alone until he indulged him.

 

“Nah. Namoon is clearly fucking someone upstairs. He disappears for a ‘bath’ every other night and comes back looking relaxed and happy. He's got someone up there, whether that’s the Master, Mistress, or hell, one of the servants,” Jungkook snorted, kicking Jimin’s side. “Get up.”

 

Jimin reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s ankle, “Try that again. I dare you.”

 

“Hyung… ignore Jungkook,” Taehyung called from across the room, having watched the interaction with a frown. “Both of you go to sleep. Training is _hard_ ,” he complained, which was understandable given he still not settled into Ludus life yet. But to his dismay, Jimin stood quickly and rushed outside to their training area.

 

“Shame they don’t let us use real swords in training,” Jimin said, weighing the wooden one in his hand. He knew he and Jungkook would end up wrestling without weapons in roughly five minutes anyway, but it would be nice to have a hwando to slice into him. Teach him a lesson.

 

Jimin dodged quickly as Jungkook tried to smack him with the flat side of his sword, “You’re threatened by me. Don’t like fresh blood?”

 

Jungkook growled and stalked closer to Jimin, this time raising the sword to wield it properly, “I don’t mind fresh blood. I don’t like people who enter the Ludus like they own the place, only to perish in the arena weeks later.”

 

“You’re worried about me? How cute. Don’t worry, Kookie, I'll be just fine in the arena,” Jimin said firmly, lunging for him. Their swords clashed sharply, causing the wood to break and splinter.

 

Jimin truly hated what he had become… violent, aggressive, and happy to tear others down to get to the top. He wanted his freedom; he had earned it, and he just needed the coins to buy it. He was never supposed to be a gladiator, and had been content to serve on a farm, but all the manual labour helped his skin to toughen and his muscles develop. The owner of the farm realized he could sell Jimin and earn a fair amount of money due to his physique. At the auction, Ludus owners fought over him, and his first trainer appeared very smug when he won. Perhaps feeling like he was highly useful was what caused Jimin to grow cocky, or maybe it could be attributed to the subsequent arena wins. He was undefeated; well, at least in front of the crowd.

 

The fake sword was launched through the air at Jimin and whacked him in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. His face contorted and before he could compose himself, Jungkook kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to crumble to his knees.

 

“Don’t ever let yourself get lost in thought mid-fight. Lesson one,” Jungkook gripped his hair and leaned down to hiss at him. “You claim you’re undefeated? I’ll give you one week at Doyun’s Ludus before you’re begging for mercy.”

 

Jimin scowled and wriggled out of Jungkook’s grasp with ease, shoving him hard once he was back on his feet. Perhaps he got free so easily because the other gladiator had grown bored of their interaction, but he paid that no mind as he stalked off, ignoring Taehyung when the boy tried to ask how he was. He walked through the gladiator quarters of the Ludus and slipped through the door of the storage area, needing privacy for once.

 

The room would have been much larger, had it not hosted huge iron bars which intersected the middle. On one side of the bars, the household kept pots filled with wine and fresh water, and there was a staircase which led to the home above the Ludus. On the other, piles of spare training equipment and jugs of stale water were kept. The bars were connected to a locked door which stopped the gladiators from escaping upstairs.

 

Jimin kicked one of the worn-out shields out of anger.

 

Someone cleared their throat.

 

Jimin looked up and spotted a figure standing on the other side of the bars. He was pale, much paler than the gladiators who tanned easily from their days training in the sun, and had dark eyes which were emotionless and unnerving. In his hands, he clutched a pot of wine, and after a moment of staring Jimin noticed the man was shaking enough that a few droplets of the red liquid had overflowed and stained his plain white servant clothing.

 

“Are you nervous? I did not… intend to-to be so violent,” Jimin said slowly to the figure, knowing that while many were impressed by gladiators, some also found them intimidating in person. Jimin quickly noted that the man had a thin leather collar around his neck and winced, realizing he was probably a poor house slave who couldn't see anger without feeling fear.

 

What Jimin didn’t expect was for the man to glare at him and turn on his heel without another word.

 

“Wait!” Jimin called as the door to the cellar slammed shut behind the man. "I'm sorry."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnnd Yoongi appears!! I'm sorry it's just a little teaser of his character, but he is present in most of chapter 4!!
> 
> I've very excited for Namjin. I love Namjin. They love each other so goddamn much in this fic... but let's just say it's not smooth sailing for them. At all. 
> 
> I don't think I have any new words in this chapter, but let me know if I missed one by accident!


	4. A Song in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I've really been getting emotional by all the positive feedback I've received. Thank you so much again!
> 
> This chapter is very Yoongi centric. You wanted him? You've got 2000+ words of him! (plus a further few hundred of Namjoon/Jimin interactions!) Yoongi is my bias and I'm very excited to introduce him properly to this world, especially because he doesn't always make good decisions, as you'll see in later chapters!

 

 

Namjoon followed Seokjin in the direction of the cellar, walking two paces behind. They had to make a brief stop to pick up the key to the gate from the head servant of the household. Seokjin’s kind face and soft features made him immensely trustworthy, and although he had only been owned by Master Doyun for a year and a half, he was one of the few that had permission to unlock the gate unsupervised.

 

Seokjin was not foolish enough to abuse his privileges and would only use the key when ordered to fetch and return a gladiator. It happened infrequently; obviously Namjoon came upstairs several times a week to use the servants’ bath, and occasionally when Master Doyun hosted parties, he liked to have gladiators on display for his attendees to ooh and ahh over. But rarely did Seokjin use the key to slip down into the gladiators’ quarters, or secretly invite Namjoon up for an illicit encounter.

 

That was why they had yet to be caught. Seokjin was fucking sensible.

 

“Try to be patient with your gladiators. They depend on you, Namjoon-ah, and they won’t improve if you let your frustrations cloud your thinking,” Seokjin advised as they reached the cellar door. Before Seokjin could reach for the handle, the door slid open and Yoongi appeared before them. He seemed to be lost in thought as he stepped out into the hallway, but he froze when he saw Namjoon and Seokjin before him.

 

“Move.”

 

Yoongi’s expression shifted from surprised to impatient and he tapped his foot. He held the jug of wine close to his chest and Seokjin noticed red splashes on his shirt.

 

“You can’t go to Master Doyun like that,” Seokjin said, holding his arm out to block Yoongi’s path. “He’ll assume you were drinking his wine supply downstairs.”

 

Yoongi looked down at his top and cursed when he spotted the stains.

 

“Yoongi, why don’t you let Seokjin take the wine to Master Doyun? You can go change and wash your clothes?” Namjoon suggested kindly.

 

“No. Obviously not. I was with Master Doyun when he ordered me to fetch the wine. If Seokjin is the one who delivers it, I could be accused of ignoring orders,” Yoongi explained, placing the jug on the ground so he could inspect the damage. There were so many specks of red on his shirt. Had he really been shaking that badly?

 

“Then delay the delivery. Go change first and then take it to him,” Namjoon said, his voice firm because he did not want his old friend to suffer, even if his old friend kind of hated him. “He’ll punish you if he thinks you’ve been drinking.”

 

“I haven’t.”

 

“Well… we believe you, of course,” Seokjin said, although that was a lie. Although he knew Yoongi wasn’t foolish enough to drink from their Master’s alcohol supply, he also saw the potential for him to wish to drown his sorrows.

 

“Who says I care about your opinion?” Yoongi challenged, picking up the jug again. To hell with it, he’d deliver the jug and if Master noticed, then Master noticed and he could handle whatever the man threw at him.

 

“Yoongi… please know that we…” Namjoon began, unsure of how to voice his thoughts. “We both don’t want you to suffer and we care-”

 

“Fuck off, Namjoon.”

 

Yoongi was openly scowling at Namjoon. And then Namjoon’s temper snapped.

 

“Is that any way for a slave to address his superior?"

 

Yoongi instantly smirked in response, happy to hear Namjoon’s words, as awful as they were. It just proved that Namjoon was not as kind and wonderful a man as everyone else seemed to believe. “You’re a slave too. You may be in charge of the gladiators but you’re not free, remember? None of you are free, even if you get to temporarily bask in all that fake glory you love so much.”

 

Seokjin sighed and tugged on Namjoon’s arm before his lover could say anything in response, “We need to get you back to your quarters. Yoongi, go deliver the wine. If he spots the stains then... good luck.”

 

“Don’t say we didn’t try to help you,” Namjoon said, as Seokjin led him through the cellar door. His voice was softer than before, and it was clear from his expression that he regretted snapping.

 

“You’re incapable of helping me.”

 

They heard Yoongi’s words called after them and Namjoon flinched, looking down at the ground. They had known Yoongi hated them, but he disliked being reminded of the fact. He and Yoongi used to be best friends and occasional lovers, although both agreed it wasn't romance between them, just relief. Once upon a time, Namjoon had planned on using his winnings to free Seokjin and Yoongi, so they could start a new life together far away from Seoul. Although, the day Namjoon had confessed to Yoongi that he had fallen for Seokjin, all his plans fell apart.

 

Yoongi hadn’t taken the news well.

 

“It’s not your fault, Jagiya,” Seokjin said, placing his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as they walked downstairs.

 

“I know, but I feel guilty. He used to be so full of live and now he’s bitter and isolates himself,” Namjoon replied, frowning when he saw a shadowy figure through the bars, sitting among the jars of water. “Who goes there?” He demanded. “Seokjin open the gate. All my men should be in their quarters.”

 

Seokjin pushed the key into the lock and quickly opened it for Namjoon, deciding not to kiss him goodbye in case of prying eyes. He locked the door once Namjoon had slipped through the bars and he bowed to the Doctore. The moment that gate shut, they returned to their respective roles, with no questions asked.

 

Namjoon’s attention wasn’t on Seokjin now however, but on his newest, most troublesome gladiator.

 

“Jimin, what the fuck do you think you’re doing back here? This is our storage area.”

 

“Sorry, Doctore,” Jimin replied, standing up slowly.

 

“You’re covered in sand. Been rolling around in the dirt have you?” Namjoon said, assessing him slowly, until his gaze focused on the dirt that Jimin hadn’t bothered to clean off his knees. “So you’ve either been sucking someone off in the training ground for the whole world to see _or_ you’ve been fighting without my permission. Given the fact you’re hiding in here, I’m going to choose the latter.”

 

“Doctore I-”

 

“You and Jungkook,” Namjoon concluded. “Someone got cocky and challenged the other, right? You know the rules, Jimin.”

 

“I’m sorry Doctore, I was asleep and Jungkook dragged me out of bed to fight,” Jimin defended, his stomach sinking as he thought about the whip which usually hung from the Doctore’s clothes.

 

“Do not try to shift the blame. You fought didn’t you? So accept the consequences,” Namjoon said, not wanting to hear any excuses from the gladiator before him.

 

“I… Yes, sir. What are the consequences?” Jimin asked, lowering his gaze. For the first time since arriving at the Ludus, he looked vulnerable and scared, and Namjoon didn't have the heart to hurt him.

 

“Follow me. I have a task for you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yoongi had never felt so alone.

 

The moment Namjoon chose Seokjin over him, he had shut them both out his life. He had also started to distance himself from the other servants and slaves, and refused to interact with any gladiators despite having the opportunity occasionally.

 

Like when he saw one through the metal bars.

 

It was the talented gladiator who everyone, including his Master, kept bragging about. Someone to rival Jungkook. Someone to bring even more money to the Ludus. Not that Yoongi cared about any of that; he would never be able to buy his own freedom and he would die enslaved in this fucking house.

 

 _Are you nervous?_ That was what Jimin had asked. Yoongi hadn’t been shaking because he was fearful or anxious, and certainly wasn’t intimidated by the beautiful man who had appeared so apologetic. No. Yoongi hadn’t been nervous, his shakiness was due to his anger.

 

“I hate gladiators,” Yoongi said under his breath as he approached Master Doyun’s private quarters. He knocked and heard his Master loudly say ‘finally,’ presumably to his wife, Mistress Seonhui.

 

When Yoongi entered, he saw Seonhui sitting with a teapot, drinking her tea calmly from a cup, while her husband paced around the large, minimalist room.

 

“Yoongi, I swear it doesn't take _that_ long to get a pot of wine. Where the fuck were you?” Master Doyun demanded.

 

Yoongi bowed once, twice, then hurried over to the table to pour wine from the jug into an empty cup. “Apologies, Master. I was... held up. Seokjin was returning the Doctore and… and it was crowded in the storage area. I had to wait until they were… done.” It was a weak explanation, but one all the same. He placed the pot on the table and waited patiently for further orders or to be excused.

 

Doyun walked over to the table to get his wine, but paused when he saw the red splatters on Yoongi’s white slave clothes. “Have you been drinking wine, boy?” He demanded, grabbing the front of Yoongi’s jeogori, fisting the fabric of the top in his hand as he pulled him closer. “Is that why you were so late? You thought you’d stop and drink _our_ alcohol?”

 

“No… no Master Do-Doyun,” Yoongi stuttered, suddenly wondering if he should have listened to Namjoon and Seokjin after all.

 

“Explain the stains then.”

 

“I tripped walking up the stairs, there is no lid and the liquid splashed I swear,” Yoongi rambled out another excuse, hating to be so close to his Master. He hated being noticed and preferred to wait in the shadows while others suffered their Master’s bad moods and orders.

 

“Stick out your tongue,” Doyun ordered, gripping Yoongi’s jeogori tighter. “Now.”

 

Yoongi opened his mouth slowly and stuck his tongue out for his Master to view. His cheeks were red from his anger and embarrassment, but he understood why his Master was doing this.

 

“His tongue isn’t stained.”

 

“Because I didn’t drink the wine, Master,” Yoongi muttered.

 

Doyun let go of Yoongi’s shirt and slapped his cheek, swift and precise. “Don’t be disrespectful. You’re lucky I believe you about the wine. Now get the fuck out of here, you’re dismissed for the night.”

 

Yoongi’s expression remained stoic as he was hit and he bowed lowly, “I apologize for disappointing you Master. It will not happen again.” Once he finished speaking, he rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

 

Yes, he hated gladiators, but he also hated free people too, especially his Master. As Yoongi began walking to the slave quarters, he saw Seokjin standing at the end of the hall with a worried expression.

 

“Don’t eavesdrop. You may be the preferred slave, but I’ve been here longer. Treat me with respect,” Yoongi told him as he approached. “Actually, don’t say a word.”

 

Yoongi knew his cheek would be marked from the slap and he didn’t want Seokjin’s pity or comfort, so he brushed by him quickly and made his way to the main balcony for fresh air. The balcony overlooked the training field, which was smallish in size, and enclosed by three walls which were much too high and too smooth to climb. Underneath the balcony was the entrance to the gladiator living area, and while during daylight hours the sands were bustling with activity, at night the gladiators slept deeply and it was silent and peaceful.

 

Yoongi leaned against the balcony and looked out, taking comfort in the quietness. He didn’t need a lover, and certainly did not need his friend Namjoon right now. All he needed was himself, and that was okay; he could take care of himself and his own life.

 

“You want me to what?”

 

The high voice spoke loudly and captured his attention. It sounded like it came from below in the training area, and the next moment two figures were visible.

 

“Our training ground, our arenas… they’re all filled with sand. I often wondered how many grains were required to cover this field.”

 

That voice belonged to Namjoon, Yoongi concluded, although the taller of the two was facing away from the balcony. The shorter was the same gladiator from the gate – Jimin.

 

“So your job is to count. Count every grain of sand, Jimin, and let me know by morning,” Namjoon said, patting Jimin’s shoulder twice after speaking. Then Namjoon walked back under the balcony and presumably into the Ludus, leaving Jimin outside alone.

 

Jimin fell to his knees with a sigh and began to dutifully count. His face was clearly illuminated by the moonlight and Yoongi leaned further over the rail to see him clearer. His facial features were softer, delicate, and his voice was much higher than the more stereotypical gladiators, however in contrast, Jimin’s body was broader and muscled. Most gladiators wore their hair short and Jimin was no exception. However, unlike most, he wore it long enough to frame his forehead which made him look rather handsome.

 

Yoongi could clearly see that Jimin was upset and he felt angry that Namjoon chose such a mind numbing, tedious punishment for… whatever it was Jimin did. It was cruel to make him stay awake all night counting sand, and in the morning Jimin would be too exhausted to function and would get hurt by Jungkook, or other highly skilled gladiators.

 

And what would happen if Jimin were to fall asleep? Would Namjoon leave him out in the cold? Or punish him physically? God, Namjoon sickened Yoongi really; becoming the Doctore was supposed to be their ticket out of this hell, not give Namjoon a false sense of power.

 

Just as Yoongi decided to retire inside, having had enough of this sight, he heard the sound of someone singing softly. He looked back over and sure enough the gladiator on his knees was singing to himself as he gently counted the sand.

 

Yoongi stood and listened to Jimin sing for a while, the softness of his voice helping to relax his mind from his earlier anger and frustration. All thoughts of Master Doyun and Namjoon’s cruelty were gone, and instead he watched Jimin with a smile. It was only when he felt sleepy that he decided to retire inside for the night and made his way to his quarters. From the position of the moon, he realized he had stayed awake much later than normal but when he collapsed on his mat, he didn’t instantly sleep. Instead his mind played Jimin’s song over and over… and Yoongi found he did not mind.

 

Yes, Yoongi hated gladiators... but Jimin seemed different. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Namjoon peeked his head outside the Ludus and smiled gently when he saw Jimin curled up in a ball on the sand. It was clear the gladiator was sound asleep and Namjoon’s thoughts were confirmed when he approached him quietly.

 

“Tired yourself out, huh? Counting grains will always do that,” he said, his voice much kinder than before. Never had he known a gladiator to stay up until dawn counting grains. They always ended up lulled to sleep by the banality of the task and the darkening sky.

 

Namjoon leaned down and picked Jimin up in his arms, holding the gladiator with ease. “I hate using the whip, you know?” He told the man who was still sleeping soundly in his arms. “I’ll avoid doing it at all costs. Being a Doctore means being in charge of discipline… but that really isn’t something I like.”

 

He began to carry Jimin inside and he navigated the room of sleeping gladiators until he found Taehyung with an empty mat beside him. “You boys need to stop being trouble. Okay?” He whispered as he placed Jimin on the mat beside Taehyung. “The less trouble you are, the easier it will be for me to protect you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited about this chapter, I hope you liked it. Namjoon is so soft and lovely and will continue to be throughout the entire fic. 
> 
> We've got a little bit more of Yoonmin too!!
> 
> In the next few chapters, you'll start to get to know Master Doyun properly.
> 
>  
> 
> More terms:
> 
> Jagiya - a Korean term of endearment.  
> Jeogori - the upper part of the Korean Hanbok. Assume all characters who aren't gladiators wear the style of Hanbok which was worn in the Joseon era.


	5. Let Me Tell You a Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! So I'm glad to make my deadline today, I am a little behind schedule and I was still writing this last night.
> 
> (Normally I like to post my chapters around 1am UK time on Tuesdays... but I wasn't able to do that today. It's still Tuesday... just later in the day! Hilariously, I posted this at 11:59pm.)
> 
> This chapter is mostly a flashback, where we see Namjoon and Yoongi's friendship building, how Jungkook ended up in the Ludus, and it also shows important information on what type of person Doyun really is! I promise it's not a filler chapter - there's a lot of details that will be relevant to the story! It does jump around - starting with the present, then the past, then present, then past again. But hopefully it's easy enough to follow!
> 
> One quick thing to note: when I reference letters/numbers being used in some way in the narrative, please assume that the characters are using hangul! I'm including both versions in the text, let me know if it's too jarring! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

 

“You were an asshole to Jimin last night.”

 

Jungkook looked up from his bowl of rice and frowned at Taehyung. “I wasn’t that bad.”

 

Most gladiators were sitting on the ground or on the benches provided, picking at their rice; basic sustenance to get them through the morning. Until this moment, Jungkook had been sitting alone lost in thought, which he normally did on days when Namjoon wasn't around to keep him company. 

 

“You provoked him, taunted him, made him fight with you, and got him into trouble with hyung,” Taehyung said, decidedly not backing down from the conversation, regardless of how attractive he found Jungkook, and how often the gladiator had flirted with him since his arrival at the Ludus.

 

“I suppose I may have instigated it,” Jungkook said, pausing for a moment, then he let out a soft laugh, “You refer to Doctore as your hyung? Really? How adorable.”

 

“I’ve heard you call him that!” Taehyung protested. 

 

“I have known him for much longer than four days, remember? I’ve earned the right to call him hyung.” 

 

Jungkook knew that Taehyung had been a free person for much longer than most in the Ludus, and he had a certain naivety about what was expected of him in his new status. Most gladiators, even Jimin, knew their place but it seemed Taehyung had yet to learn. The happy-go-lucky boy appeared more interested in making friends than learning how to fight and defend himself; it was cute watching him chirp the word 'hyung' at elder gladiators, but seeing his blood splattered across the arena would be horrifying. 

 

Jungkook had once been in Taehyung’s position – new, unsure, and even scared to learn, until Namjoon had knocked some sense into him.

 

Namjoon had been the one to save Jungkook in the first place, putting himself on the line for a boy he had never met, and Jungkook firmly believed he would always owe a great debt to his beloved Doctore. Namjoon had loved him and protected him since the moment he was bought. Three years had gone by and their bond had only strengthened.

 

“Let me tell you a story.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So Master Doyun allows the Doctore to leave the Ludus unsupervised?” Namjoon asked hesitantly as he followed his Doctore, Kyunghyun, and a house slave named Yoongi through the narrow streets of their town. They were heading in the direction of the market, all three collared with their brands clearly displayed on their forearms. A ‘ㅋ' (K) for the Kang Ludus was seared into their skin to mark their place in the world. They weren’t escorted by a free person or a guard, which confused Namjoon as he couldn’t help but wonder why Doyun assumed the three would return to the Ludus.

 

“Well... he knows I'm loyal to him,” Kyunghyun said with a shrug, “And if we tried to run, it’s not like we’d get very far.”

 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked, still not understanding why they couldn’t just… stroll out of town. Two out of three of them were tough gladiators after all, and they could easily fight off anyone who tried to stop them.

 

“You're fucked the minute you get caught on the road with a brand and slave collar, that’s what he means. Those who patrol the roads carry weapons and chains, and the three of us? We’re empty handed. We also have little money or food, both of which we’d need for a long journey,” Yoongi explained tiredly, rolling his eyes at Namjoon’s questions. “Fuck, I know gladiators are meant to be more brawn than brain, but I didn’t think they’d be naïve.”

 

“Yoongi.” Kyunghyun muttered, the glare he gave the house slave enough to make Namjoon’s stomach churn. Would the Doctore get the whip out in the middle of the street? Kyunghyun was merciful and preferred not to punish, but the look on his face was intense, and Yoongi… had been disrespectful.

 

But after a moment, both men burst out laughing and Kyunghyun shoved his much smaller dongsaeng. “Always so insolent. As you get to know him, Namjoon, you’ll see he likes to push boundaries."

 

“Only because you let me get away with it, hyung,” Yoongi said with a bright smile, looking a lot perkier than before.

 

Namjoon studied Yoongi, more than happy to see the usually sullen house slave look cheerful for once. He and Yoongi had only interacted a handful of times, and they had exchanged even less words. Perhaps this journey out of the Ludus would give him a chance to get to know him properly.

 

Namjoon also acknowledged that Yoongi looked… really quite nice when he smiled. Cute. 

 

He kept silent as Yoongi and Kyunghyun joked during their walk, only returning their smiles hesitantly and occasionally laughing at their antics. He was quite close with Kyunghyun, but he understood that the Doctore had known Yoongi for a long time and they were therefore extremely friendly with each other. Namjoon wasn’t sure how long Yoongi had belonged to Doyun, but he imagined he wasn’t a recent addition to the household ‘staff’, and he knew that Kyunghyun had been there for over ten years now. He had retired as a gladiator and worked comfortably as their Doctore, a goal most of the current gladiators aspired to. 

 

“Namjoon is my best gladiator. He’s been at the Ludus for two years now, outlived most of the men he arrived with, and his talents have surpassed our older residents,” Kyunghyun explained to Yoongi, who was now regarding Namjoon with more interest than before.

 

“I’ve seen him train. I’m aware of his talents,” Yoongi said, meeting Namjoon’s gaze with a small smirk playing on his lips.

 

Oh. Interesting.

 

Namjoon’s eyes barely left Yoongi as they approached the market, and by the time they were in the crowd, Kyunghyun was purposefully standing between the pair so that they would pay attention to the auction and not each other. It was clear that Yoongi was quite interested in him, and Namjoon was glad Kyunghyun had invited him for no other reason than the opportunity to flirt.

 

When Namjoon woke up that morning, Kyunghyun approached him and asked if he wished to accompany himself and one of the servants to the market to buy a new gladiator. He wanted a second opinion and claimed he trusted Namjoon above all others; believed he needed his dongsaeng to watch the stage and offer him advice. He eventually decided to respect his Doctore's wishes and watch the auction. 

 

“How can you remain so calm? So… unbothered by this process?” Namjoon asked Kyunghyun as he passed on yet another man who would have been a suitable candidate for their Ludus. He hated the thought of buying anyone, but at least Master Doyun wasn’t a cruel person to be owned by. Their Ludus was well maintained, clean, and served its function efficiently, and the gladiators were trained to a high standard, which gave them the best possible chance in the arena.

 

“I’ve been to many auctions. My stomach churned when I attended my first one, but after a while it all becomes normal,” Kyunghyun explained, barely paying any attention as a scrawny young man was led onto the stage - not what they were looking for at all.

 

Namjoon, on the other hand, started to watch more attentively. 

 

“What does the plaque around his neck say?” He asked Yoongi and Kyunghyun, hoping one of them could read the writing on the wood. 

 

“Uh Yoongi?” Kyunghyun asked, turning to the slave for help. 

 

“Criminal.”

 

“You can read?” Namjoon asked curiously, feeling a pang of jealousy. He was a highly intelligent man, but illiterate due to his social standing as a slave and gladiator.

 

“Yeah, Master Doyun purposefully trained one or two of us to read and write basic things so we could travel to marketplaces without a free person,” Yoongi explained quickly, then turned his attention back to the auction. “But why do you want to know? He’s not gladiator material and we’re here to purchase a new gladiator.”

 

“I was just curious,” Namjoon said, feeling a pang of sympathy as the auctioneer read out the boy’s credentials: first time slave who needs broken in, criminal condemned to life as a slave, suited to housework or a brothel. The boy’s eyes widened from fear and Namjoon wished he could save him from that awful fate.

 

He looked around in horror as owners of brothels began to bid on the criminal and he felt his stomach churn - just as Kyunghyun's had at his first auction. This feeling was normal, right? He just had to stand calmly and let the boy's destiny unfold, and he couldn't intervene. However, the boy looked even more terrified now that the bidding began, and _something_ inside Namjoon snapped. Perhaps because it was his first time on this side of the auction? Namjoon wanted to save everybody, but they barely had enough money for one good gladiator. Still, he snatched the bidding paddle from Kyunghyun’s hand and raised it high in the air. “Us! We want him!” He called out.

 

The look Kyunghyun gave Namjoon was murderous, and he appeared especially furious when Namjoon began to match the bids, calling out number after number until finally the opponents gave up and the boy was given to them.

 

They approached the seller and the merchant handed the chains to Kyunghyun, "His name is Jungkook. I hope he pleases your Master."

 

"He won't," Kyunghyun said, his smile tight. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jungkook knelt quietly in the corner of the room as the two gladiators argued about the situation, the _mistake_ , as he was now referred to. He flinched every time the elder of the pair even so much glanced in his direction.

 

“Master Doyun will kill you for this, Namjoon. What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

Even though Namjoon didn’t react when the other man whacked his arm with the handle of the whip, Jungkook squeaked and crossed his arms over his chest, bending over further in an attempt to make himself as small as possible.

 

“Look at that! Look how he cowers!  You think he’ll make a good gladiator? What a fucking mistake, Namjoon-ah!”

 

“Well Yoongi said he could speak to Master Doyun and try to convince him they need more house slaves! He said he was sure-”

 

“So we wasted money by paying a gladiator price for a house slave?” Kyunghyun interrupted, turning to glare at Jungkook again, although this time the boy did not notice as his head was bowed so low.

 

“Actually we paid a whore’s price. You know where he was doomed to go,” Namjoon said sharply, “Have some compassion. Can't you see he’s terrified.”

 

Jungkook heard footsteps approaching him and then a gentle hand rested on top of his head.

 

“Boy, Look up.”

 

At the order, Jungkook hesitantly lifted his gaze and he was relieved to see Namjoon crouching before him, not the Doctore. Namjoon's hand trailed down his cheek, and he took Jungkook’s chin to hold him in place, however his touch was still light and unthreatening.

 

“I know you’re frightened. I know it's scary being sold for the first time, and it feels horrible waiting to meet your new Master,” Namjoon said, trying to make sure his tone was kind as he spoke to Jungkook. “I’m on your side, I promise. Both of us are… even if Doctore Kyunghyun has a strange way of showing it.”

 

“Why?” Jungkook dared to ask.

 

“Because gladiators don't automatically lose their hearts when they start killing,” Kyunghyun sighed, resting his hand on Namjoon’s back. “Which is why I’ll let Master Doyun believe it was my choice to buy Jungkook. I’ll bullshit… tell him that I saw something special in him, that I believed training him up would be worthwhile.”

 

Namjoon looked up over his shoulder, eyes shining as Kyunghyun agreed to cover his ass, and he nodded his head in thanks. “Lesson one: Doctores may seem fucking terrifying but they care about you. More than you’ll ever be able to understand.”

 

Kyunghyun hid a smile and brought the handle of the whip down against Namjoon’s back again, although Jungkook could tell from his proximity to the pair that he wasn’t even using half of his strength. “That’s for making me buy a pathetic little criminal.”

 

“Ow. Yeah. Got it.”

 

“Namjoon he’s your responsibility, you know that right? You’ve got a responsibility to keep him alive, to train him up and make him fit for the arena,” Kyunghyun said, his tone turning serious. “You overpowered me and bid for him, so the boy is yours to handle.”

 

Namjoon looked at the scrawny boy with a sad expression and he cupped his cheek, "I promise you, Jungkook... I promise I'll keep you alive."

 

 

* * *

 

 

“That’s why I feel a bond with Namjoon. That’s why I believe I have a right to call him hyung,” Jungkook finished explaining to Taehyung, his eyes still closed as he recalled the memories. The first few months had been painful and Jungkook had almost died during the intensive training regime, but true to his word Namjoon had kept him alive. 

 

“And that’s why he lets you get away with murder?” Taehyung questioned, and when Jungkook finally looked at him, he saw a slight teasing smirk on his lips (but a million questions in his eyes.)

 

“Indeed. It’s why I escaped punishment last night,” Jungkook said quietly, looking up in time to notice a very tired and disorientated Jimin enter the room to get his breakfast. When Jimin’s gaze settled on Jungkook and Taehyung, his expression shifted to hurt, and he simply grabbed a bowl of rice and settled alone on a bench across the room. “But if you take nothing else from my story, _please_ remember how kind Doctores are. Jimin wasn’t badly disciplined last night. You think Namjoon didn't come find me, grab me by the ear and scold me? When he did, he told me the punishment he gave Jimin and it... was light.”

 

“I… I know,” Taehyung replied, looking over to Jimin. He wanted to keep his friend company, but he also had further questions for Jungkook. “You were a criminal?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What… what did you do?”

 

“Ah, storytelling time is over,” Jungkook said, patting Taehyung’s arm. “Go back to Jimin, he looks lonely.”

 

“Wait!” Taehyung said quickly, not wanting to be cut off there. “What happened to the old Doctore? Kyunghyun?”

 

“Ah. He earned his freedom. Bought it and left us,” Jungkook replied, more than happy to reply to _that_ question because it meant the heat was off his past. “Don’t bring it up with Namjoon.”

 

“Why not? Were they lovers?” Taehyung asked, his brows furrowed.

 

“You ask too many questions. It’s far too obvious that you were recently free… but no, they weren’t lovers. They were friends. Namjoon hasn't seen Kyunghyun since he left the Ludus and well…” Jungkook said, trailing off awkwardly when he felt Namjoon’s hand rest on his shoulder.

 

“He didn’t say goodbye to us. To any of us,” Namjoon elaborated with a sad smile. “Of course I grieve our friendship. But no further questions, _please_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Master Doyun? Permission to enter?"

 

"Granted." 

 

"Master, I believe that I have earned enough to buy my freedom!” Kyunghyun proclaimed happily as he walked into his Master’s private study. Both Namjoon and Jungkook had won their matches today, and a fraction of their winnings had gone to Kyunghyun’s pot for the time and energy he spent training them. The additional _mun_ meant he had finally reached the total he needed to leave the Ludus, and he was elated. 

 

“Hmm?” Doyun said, glancing down at his books to assess Kyunghyun’s financial situation. He cursed when he saw the slave had earned more than enough to gain his freedom. Kyunghyun was far too useful and he had a deep hatred for gladiators wanted to leave, and especially despised those who earned it. “No. No, you can't. There’s, ah, a small problem.”

 

“Financially? No, I’m certain everything is in order. I've got enough to buy my freedom, with some left over to purchase food and necessities for my journey back to Pyeongchang.”

 

Kyunghyun missed his hometown, and while his parents would no doubt be dead by now, he wondered whether he might have extended family, either free or not, in the area. Regardless, he believed it would be nice to settle down in the beautiful mountains. He could enjoy the scenery and bask in the tranquility which was so far removed from the horrors of his current life.

 

Doyun scowled down at his book of finances, “You’re right. You have. Come closer Kyunghyun, and we’ll work out the details of your freedom.”

 

“Yes, Doyun,” Kyunghyun said, using his Master’s name informally for the first time, knowing he was able to due to his newfound freedom. It felt wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

 

“Congratulations, Kyunghyun,” Doyun said, holding out his hand for Kyunghyun to shake.

 

Kyunghyun approached his ex-Master and took his hand eagerly, beaming at him as he was filled with sheer joy at the prospect of his freedom. But in that instant, Doyun harshly tugged him close and he cried out in shock when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw the handle of a dagger sticking out of him. Blood began to seep through the top of his hanbok and he collapsed to his knees, groaning as the pain began to spread.

 

“Wha-what? Why? ...Master, why?”

 

“You bought your freedom,” Doyun said simply, pulling the dagger out so he could stab Kyunghyun again, his nose wrinkling with distaste as the gladiator's blood spilled on his wooden floor.

 

Doyun picked up his brush when Kyunghyun fell to the ground and dipped it in his ink pot. He scored out the total sum of the Doctore’s winnings, then quickly replaced it with ‘제로' (zero). “It’s a win-win situation, you see? You don’t want to be Doctore anymore? You don’t want to be my slave? Fine. You can be free… and I get every last coin.”

 

It was cruel. Doyun knew he would have received payment from Kyunghyun for his freedom regardless, but this way he could receive the man’s measly personal savings too. Every last _mun_ would go into his pocket, and he could be satisfied with the knowledge that his ex-gladiator would never return and cause any problems. If Kyunghyun had left, he might have demanded to buy his friends off Doyun, or even attempted to break them out. Yes, it was safer to dispose discreetly of any gladiator who wanted to leave. 

 

And the remaining slaves? They will be told their beloved Doctore had left without saying goodbye.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware of the perspective shift between Namjoon/Yoongi/Kyunghyun and Jungkook when it's technically Jungkook's story, but I felt it was more important to show some of Namgi's friendship blossoming (they also really want to fuck each other in this chapter.) Honestly I was planning on having a bit of smut between Namjoon and Yoongi in this but I didn't want to stray too far from the Jungkook plot! Let me know if you want some flashback namgi smut!! 
> 
>  
> 
> (I threw in Pyeongchang as a little shout out to the Olympics!)
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Pretty much from this point on, the main plot kicks in! As you have read, Doyun has no problems with getting rid of characters who want freedom... which is problematic for people like Namjoon who are close to earning it. Keep that in mind.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and I hope you continue to enjoy this fic!!


	6. Those Who Seek Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh I'm so sorry this is two days late. I had terrible writer's block! The first half of this chapter was hard for me to write (but the second half flowed really quickly!) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter! We get some proper Yoonmin interaction here! 
> 
> (TW: There is a slight discussion of branding at the very start of this chapter. If that makes you uncomfortable, skip by the first few hundred words.)
> 
> Finally... oh my god, HOPE WORLD. I'm so happy. I love Hobi and I can't wait for him to appear in this fic (soon... very very soon.)

 

 

Jimin traced the still healing ‘ㅋ’ brand that had been seared into his forearm the previous evening. The presence of the mark meant he was officially a member of the Ludus, and while some were horrified at the prospect of receiving such pain and permanent marring, Jimin didn't mind. It meant he was one step closer to buying his freedom. It was his second gladiatorial brand, and his body had one other from his previous life doing labor on a farm, although the mark was smaller and less significant. 

 

After three weeks of training at the Ludus, Jimin finally belonged, and he was ready to prove he deserved his place. 

 

Taehyung didn’t take being branded so well, but that was to be expected. It was painful to go through and the mark signified that he was no longer a free person. He belonged heart and soul to Master Doyun; he would fight for him and potentially die for him.

 

Jimin had held Taehyung in his arms throughout the night, soothing him as he cried himself to sleep. He had been vaguely aware of Jungkook’s lingering gaze, and for once a full range of emotions had replaced his usually smug expression: concern, fear, anger, sympathy.

 

The next day, Jimin woke up to find Taehyung laying across his chest, and Jungkook asleep on the mat beside them. Jungkook’s proximity was bizarre because he tended to avoid sleeping near Jimin due to their ever-growing feud, but it wasn’t the first time Jimin had woken to his lump of a friend cuddled up into him.

 

“Can’t breathe,” Jimin wheezed, prodding at Taehyung’s side. “Pabo, let your hyung breathe.”

 

Taehyung yelped at the prodding, and squinted down at him with a confused, just-woke-up look on his face. “You’re… you're barely my hyung.”

 

“Still older, still taking care of you, so show me respect,” Jimin countered, pushing Taehyung off him with ease, despite being the shorter of the pair.

 

His friend rolled down from Jimin's chest and landed on the mat Jungkook was sleeping on, his face just inches from the seasoned gladiator. When Taehyung noticed their lack of distance, he smiled and closed his eyes again. Apparently Taehyung was determined to get more rest and trusted Jungkook enough to sleep next to him. Jimin was still slightly confused about Jungkook’s decision to sleep beside them, but when he remembered the young gladiator’s concern for Taehyung the previous evening, it began to make a little more sense.

 

“You were feeling protective of him, weren’t you?” Jimin said softly as he watched the sleeping pair, who had somehow managed to curl up into each other. “And here I was thinking you were flirting with Tae to fuck with me.”

 

As Jimin spoke his thoughts out loud, Jungkook’s eyes opened blearily. He looked surprised to see Taehyung’s face right next to his own and his cheeks went pink, before he smiled and wrapped an arm around Taehyung’s waist to hold him closer. Jimin realised that Jungkook was unaware of his presence and he stood slowly to get himself ready for the day, lightly padding by the two to ensure he wouldn't disturb them. There was no sense sitting any longer; intruding on the moment between the pair.

 

Jimin walked over to their bathing area and frowned when he saw the huge wooden bucket which kept their bathing water was empty. In his opinion the person who finishes the water should replace it (it's just common courtesy) but they were gladiators and that was asking for too much. They weren’t supposed to be kind, courteous members of society, were they?

 

Really, they weren’t even members of society.

 

They weren’t allowed a proper bath and had to wash themselves out of a bucket. Jimin had been informed that the house servants and slaves were allowed access to a small bath upstairs, but those who fought in the arena weren’t allowed that luxury. They weren’t even allowed upstairs into the living quarters of the Ludus without proper permission.  

 

Jimin walked to the storage area to refill the water and he tensed when he saw Namjoon walking through the gate. “Doctore, I promise I’ve reason to be back here. The water-” He held up the bucket, as if to prove his point. The door was closed behind Namjoon and locked by a servant, and when the Doctore approached Jimin, the younger gladiator bowed low. "Need fresh water. I'm sorry."

 

“Jimin-ah, it’s fine. Don’t panic, okay? I’m aware the circumstances are different this time – I trust you haven’t been fighting Jungkook in your sleep?” Namjoon said, with a forced smile on his face.

 

“No, ha. I’m just awake early and wanted to bathe.”

 

“Well, go on then,” Namjoon replied, picking up one of the jugs of water so he could empty the contents into the bucket for Jimin. “I won’t stop you.”

 

“Thank you, Doctore,” Jimin said once Namjoon had finished refilling the bucket, his voice softer now he felt less intimidated.

 

“Jimin-ah… how’s your arm? Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, just as Jimin was turning to go.

 

“Hyung, it isn’t the first time I’ve received a brand. This isn’t my first Ludus, remember?”

 

“Still, everyone’s attention was on Taehyung last night. It’s nice to check that the strong one is alright too,” Namjoon said, smiling gently at Jimin.

 

“I’m alright. I promise.”

 

Jimin ducked his head because he knew that Namjoon was assessing him to confirm that he was being truthful. It was strange to have a Doctore who cared this much, because his last hadn’t been particularly interested in any of the gladiators' wellbeing, just their success rate in the arena.

 

“Good. Now, get yourself ready. The rest of our men will be awake soon and I’ve got an announcement to make after breakfast,” Namjoon ordered, nudging Jimin with his hand to usher him out of the storage area.

 

“An announcement?”

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

“An announcement. This applies to everyone in the Ludus, so listen carefully,” Namjoon said, his expression neutral as he addressed the circle of gladiators.

 

“Is it about the upcoming games?” Jungkook asked curiously.

 

“No, we hear news about next month’s games in about a week. This is… more personal to Master Doyun,” Namjoon sighed, his stomach filling with dread because he hated giving this particular piece of news to the group. “Master is throwing a party tonight and our presence is requested.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“No, goddamn it!”

 

“Why? Asshole does this too often! It’s fucking humiliating.”

 

"Fuck him, fuck him."

 

“Namjoon!!”

 

“I don’t understand, why are we needed at a party? And why is it so bad?” Taehyung piped up, looking at all the unhappy gladiators in confusion. It didn’t sound so bad to him.

 

“Okay, I know your naivety is endearing to most men here, but it’s fucking pissing me off,” Hoyong, one of the usually quiet gladiators, snapped. Taehyung felt his eyes burn into him and he shrank back.

 

“All I did was ah-ask a question, I’m still... I'm still new,” Tae stuttered, and as he spoke he began to realise his response to Hoyong was just pathetic.

 

“You become objects. They put you in fancy collars, chains, give you jewellery to adorn you, and oil up your chests and bodies. You stand still for hours while curious Yangbans poke and prod you. You’re decoration. You’re there for Master to show off,” Hoyong said, his voice sharp as he explained the reality of the party to an increasingly nervous looking Taehyung.

 

Taehyung felt sick and his hand instantly dropped down to scratch at the burn mark on his arm. He hated the thought of being paraded around in front of the Yangbans, the upper class which his family had spent years on the cusp of, trying so desperately to impress. Being a gladiator was supposed to be temporary, a solution to his parents’ debt, but it was starting to feel like a permanent situation. The burn mark, which he refused to call a brand, was certainly going to be a permanent part of his body now, and that thought made him scratch harder.

 

A hand curled around his wrist and tugged his hand away from the mark, and Taehyung groaned at Jimin’s over-cautiousness. “Hyung-”

 

“Nope, not Jimin,” Jungkook whispered sharply, holding on tight to Taehyung’s wrist, “Don’t scratch it. You’ll open the wound and it’ll get infected. I know it hurts but don’t scratch it,” he said firmly.

 

“It doesn’t hurt that badly, promise.”

 

“Then stop scratching. I don’t care how anxious you feel about tonight… four hours and it will all be over. They don’t keep us up there later than midnight, just in case we get tempted to drink or flirt.”

 

Taehyung looked surprised, “I thought we had to stand still the entire time?”

 

“You don’t think people come up and paw at you? Or hold cups of wine to your lips? Or offer you sweet food for their own amusement?” Jungkook asked with a raised eyebrow, “We’re the evening’s entertainment. People will try to interact with us all through the night.”

 

"I... really don't want to do that," Taehyung said quietly.

 

"Yeah? Welcome to our world," Hoyong shot back, making most of the gladiators around them laugh.

 

Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon didn't look impressed.

 

Jungkook wrapped an arm around Taehyung's shoulders and squeezed him gently, "Try not to worry. It's just four hours."

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Here, drink this.”

 

“Is that wine?” Jimin asked sceptically, first seeing the glass offered, then he noticed that the liquid inside was clear, which answered his own question.

 

“You look thirsty. I’m here to make sure you don’t collapse,” the voice said, and for the first time since Jimin had been brought upstairs to the party, he looked up at the person addressing him.

 

The slave from behind the gate.

 

Jimin stared at him in surprise, unsure of how to address the man who had looked at him so fearfully. This time he was calm and collected, neither cold when addressing him, nor warm and caring. His face was... handsome, despite the neutral expression he wore, and he elected to have his long hair free instead of tied in a bun. His pale skin contrasted his dark hair and even darker eyes, and Jimin found he couldn't look away from the piercing gaze.  

 

 When he finally found the words he wished to say, the rim of the cup was pushed against his lips.

 

“You have to drink.”

 

Although gladiators were never expected to rebel, allowing them into the main part of the Ludus was always a risk, and therefore they were all chained up.  Jimin’s arms were bound behind his back, so he couldn’t support a cup himself, nor could he pop food into his mouth when it was offered.

 

Jimin gasped when the cool liquid hit his tongue and he greedily began to drink from the cup. Unlike the stale water he was forced to consume downstairs, this was fresh and tasted _good_. He drank and drank until the cup was empty, and when the slave took it away, Jimin licked his lips, chasing every last drop of water.

 

“I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was,” he eventually said, his throat somehow still dry. Perhaps it was less to do with hydration, and more related to his anxiety which came from talking to the slave before him.

 

“Most gladiators don’t. You stand for hours until people tire of your presence and unless someone cares enough to give you food or drink, you collapse,” the slave replied dully.

 

“Well, I think Taehyung and Jungkook have been well fed and watered. I’ve seen plenty of people approach them… barely anyone looks my way, what does that say about me?” Jimin asked, glancing over at Taehyung, who looked uncomfortable as a man and woman obviously assessed his muscles.

 

“That you’re unattractive.”

 

“Thanks. How kind,” Jimin muttered, suddenly scowling at the slave. "I can’t believe I ever thought you were afraid of me.”

 

“I was never afraid of you. And look, I’m approaching you. Guess that means I think you’re pretty, huh?”

 

The slave’s lips twitched up into a smirk and Jimin only glared harder at him.

 

“So you’re a comedian then?”

 

“I don’t see you laughing, so I guess not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. What I meant was: people like gladiators who _look_ _like_ gladiators; tall men with muscles. You… well, you’ve got muscles, so you’re halfway there? But even with your muscles, you look soft and delicate. It's a compliment really,” the slave said, suddenly holding up a gimbap which had been previously concealed. “Do you want it?”

 

“No thanks. I’ll get some rice when I return to my part of the Ludus,” Jimin said, his cheeks heating up at the mention of his height and soft features. “Are you even allowed to talk to me?”

 

“While the crowd's attention isn't focused on you, yes. But I’m sure they will be utterly obsessed with you when you win your first fight for the Ludus.”

 

“If I win.”

 

“Oh you’ll win. I’ve watched you train.”

 

“You have? When? How often?”

 

The slave suddenly looked embarrassed and he held the gimbap up to Jimin’s lips, “Eat.”

 

Jimin took a step back to refuse the little treat, and instead focused his attention on the slave’s face again, “What’s your name? If you’re going to torment me, I deserve to know.”

  
“My name? Min Yoongi. Or rather, Yoongi. I don’t belong to myself or my family anymore… I’m no longer a Min,” Yoongi said, his gaze flickering down for just a second; long enough for Jimin to notice and clock his vulnerability.

 

“Park Jimin. I’m still a Park,” Jimin replied. Because one day he would be free, and on that day he would bear the name Park again.

 

“You’ve not been enslaved for very long, have you?”

 

“Most of my life actually. I used to work on farmland, and this is my second Ludus,” Jimin explained, trying to remain patient. “Don’t make assumptions. Just because I hold onto my family name doesn’t mean I’m foolish or have yet to be broken in. I just know that someday freedom waits for me.

 

“Apologies, Park Jimin, but I’d recommend lowering your voice when talking about being free. None of these Yangban will want to root for a gladiator who desires freedom,” Yoongi corrected Jimin quickly and quietly, though he seemed thoroughly amused by their conversation.

 

“You think you know everything, so tell me, what do they root for?” Jimin asked, glancing around the room. The noblemen and women all appeared to have been enjoying the endless flow of wine, and now were talking animatedly and assessing Jungkook and other ‘important’, ‘well established’ gladiators. Jungkook looked uncomfortable as people touched his abs, kissed his cheeks, and fed him plenty of wine. The sight sickened Jimin.

 

He wasn’t jealous of the attention, that would be ridiculous, but rather he wanted to get Jungkook out of there and back to the Ludus. As much as they were rivals, he didn't deserve this treatment; none of them did. When he turned his gaze back to Yoongi, the slave held up the gimbap and this time Jimin sighed, parted his lips, and accepted the food.

 

"Dear Jimin, don't you know what they want to see? Who they adore most on the sands?" Yoongi asked as Jimin chewed the big mouthful of rice and vegetables. 

 

Jimin shook his head once. Glory? Handsome gladiators? Thrilling and exciting matches? It could be anything. 

 

“Those who seek blood.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave us some Taekook and finally some proper Yoonmin interaction (my heart soars.) Although I'm sorry, I personally think this is one of the weaker written chapters - I had to really push through some writer's block so please bear with me! 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Pabo - Idiot.
> 
> Yangban - Ruling class, aristocrats, gentry in Joseon Korea.
> 
> ㅋ - the Hangul for 'K'.
> 
> Gimbap - Yummy bitesize rice dish, similar to sushi. I have no idea if they ate them in Joseon Korea but when you're writing a fusion fic, you're already taking some artistic liberties.


	7. Violence or Wine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm back to my regular schedule again thankfully! Apologies again for last week!! 
> 
> So chapter 7. GUESS WHO MAKES AN APPEARANCE.  
> 1 CLUE. HE'S THEIR HOPE.
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> (The other clue is the fact he's the only member yet to appear.)

 

 

“My dear nephew! Thank you for coming,” Doyun said, waiting for his nephew to bow respectfully to him.

 

“My uncle’s parties are famous, the talk of the town! I wouldn't ignore his invites unless absolutely necessary,” Hoseok replied smoothly, then he bowed to Doyun’s wife, “Auntie Seonhui.”

 

“Hoseok-ah, it’s always lovely when you visit us, you don’t come here nearly enough,” Seonhui said, reaching out to take Hoseok’s hand. She held it within her own for a moment and then let go. “Why not? Don’t you enjoy being around the wonderful gladiators?”

 

Hoseok smiled tightly while his gaze flickered around the room to assess the gladiators Seonhui was so proudly praising. “The sport doesn’t appeal to me,” he eventually said, which he would leave at that.

 

Truthfully, none of this appealed to Hoseok. To him, the men shouldn’t be forced to fight for the entertainment of free people, shouldn’t be put on display as objects, and they certainly shouldn’t be restricted in what they do, where they go, and who they love.

 

“Oh you’ve clearly not watched it properly. It’s so thrilling, especially when you spectate from a box like ours!” Seonhui said, pressing her hand to Doyun’s shoulder. “Isn’t it exciting, darling?”

 

Doyun’s eyes had drifted across the room and he had spotted Yoongi, of all people, interacting with one of the newest gladiators. He frowned and made a mental note to check he wasn’t spending too much time with that man. “Hmm?” He only said once he realised Seonhui was prompting him for an answer.

 

“Gladiators. Thrilling?”

 

“Oh, yes indeed,” Doyun agreed, turning his attention back to Hoseok, “Being the owner of a Ludus is fascinating. You have so much power. Actually, let me demonstrate, I will show you what I mean - follow me.” 

 

Doyun had a nasty smirk on his face as he led Hoseok to where two of the gladiators were standing, “This is Taehyung. He’s new. He hasn’t exactly impressed me yet.”

 

“Rather, he hasn’t been given the chance,” Seonhui explained. “We’ve yet to put Taehyung on the sands.”

 

“ _I’ve_ yet to, Seonhui, but I will during the next games,” Doyun said, frowning at his wife when she interrupted him. 

 

Hoseok noticed the slight twitch of Taehyung’s eyes when his Master mentioned him being forced to compete. If he had never been on the sands of the arena before, it would no doubt be a daunting prospect, and his heart went out to the poor man. However, he remained impressed with Taehyung's stoic expression upon hearing news like that. The eye twitch was barely noticeable; Hoseok was just incredibly observant. 

 

“And this gladiator here is Jungkook. He’s the best we have,” Doyun said, clapping Jungkook’s back with enough force to make a regular person jolt forward. Jungkook, however, was trained to have incredible balance skills, so he would not be knocked down easily during a fight, and therefore remained completely unmoved.

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hoseok said, mostly to piss off his uncle, who wouldn't appreciate him addressing the gladiators in such a direct and polite manner. It was subtle enough that Uncle Doyun couldn’t get mad at him however, as he wasn’t acknowledging their names or bowing respectfully at them.

 

“Yes. It's nice, isn't it? Now, I believe I was going to demonstrate the power I hold in this Ludus,” Doyun said, snapping his fingers at Namjoon – the only gladiator who was allowed freedom of movement during the party. “Fetch me a hwando. And the keys for their wrist chains.”

 

Namjoon looked surprised at the request, and Hoseok completely understood why he would be. Why would Doyun want the gladiators free and wielding swords at his party? Surely that wasn’t customary at these showcase events?

 

“One hwando?” It appeared Namjoon’s confusion was for a different reason than Hoseok’s.

 

“It’s fairly common for Doyun to allow two gladiators to show off their skills at parties… but he usually asks for two practice swords, not one real one,” Seonhui whispered to Hoseok, further confirming the strangeness of the situation.

 

A few moments later Namjoon returned with the requested items and he roughly spun Taehyung around to gain access to the cuffs which bound his arms behind his back.

 

“No. Just Jungkook,” Doyun corrected Namjoon.

 

“Master?” Namjoon said, clearly even more confused, although he followed the order quickly and efficiently until Jungkook was standing with free hands and a very real sword in his hands.

 

Hoseok suddenly felt uncomfortable for an entirely different reason. If that gladiator even thought about rebelling, he could kill at least three or four of them before the guards would come and pry the sword from his hands. Although Hoseok supported any rebellions which may happen now or in the future, and believed no human should ever be enslaved, he also didn’t want to get stabbed by an extra sharp sword during this particular man’s bid for freedom.

 

But Jungkook just calmly stood and awaited orders from his Master; the picture of a perfect gladiator.

 

“Alright, I see your point,” Hoseok eventually said, breathing out a sigh of relief when he realised the danger had passed, because if Jungkook were to make a move against his Master tonight, he would have done so already. "Impressive."

 

“My point hasn't been made yet,” Doyun said, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder again. “I believe Taehyung isn’t ready to go onto the sands. He’s never been a gladiator. He’s never even been a slave. He is weak and cannot handle being injured... so sending him out into an arena would be cruel, very cruel indeed.”

 

“Master Doyun?” Namjoon spoke up, his expression matching Hoseok’s; both men appeared increasingly uneasy with every word Doyun spoke, and were clearly dreading the direction this interaction was going in.

 

“Therefore - shut up, Namjoon- therefore, Taehyung will help out his Master tonight. You will, won’t you?” Doyun said, grinning at the still-stoic gladiator.

 

Taehyung showed no emotion and nodded in response to his words.

 

“Good. Jungkook?” 

  

“Hmm?”

 

“Stab him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi stood in the corner of the room, watching as his Master handed Jungkook a sword. Eventually he was forced to leave Jimin’s side to avoid suspicion, and he decided he really didn’t need to mingle with, or help, any of the other gladiators. He hated most of them anyway, especially those who worshipped Namjoon and sang his praises.

 

Besides, Yoongi was hardly a favourite slave in the household and he generally blended into the background. He could get away with relaxing for a few moments.

 

“You were talking to that gladiator for too long.”

 

Yoongi glanced up when a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he groaned when he saw who it was.

 

“Seokjin.”

 

“It looked kind of suspicious. You normally shove cups of water at gladiators’ mouths and then move on without a second thought… with that one you stood and spoke for fifteen minutes or so,” Seokjin commented with a knowing smile, because he had once been in Yoongi’s position; being perhaps a little too helpful with a certain gladiator while he was on display.

 

“It really wasn’t that long and I abandoned him ages ago,” Yoongi countered dryly, glancing over at Jimin. The gladiator was watching the exchange between Doyun and his friends with a nervous expression. “Nobody noticed. Master was busy greeting his nephew.”

 

“I noticed,” Seokjin reminded Yoongi.

 

“Let me correct myself - nobody important noticed.”

 

“You’re never going to stop being an asshole, are you?”

  
“Why should I?” Yoongi said, raising an eyebrow as he turned to properly regard Seokjin. The man was beautiful and even _that_ pissed Yoongi off. He was a beautiful man who captured the heart of a successful gladiator. A beautiful man who stole the vow of freedom which had been promised to someone else.

 

“Because our lives would be easier if we were friends,” Seokjin said gently.

 

“No. _No_ ,” Yoongi growled back, shoving past Seokjin to get away from him and this fucking party. He hated it here; hated free people, hated gladiators, hated other slaves. He marched in the direction of the kitchen to get some air, only stopping once he heard a soft voice call his name.

 

“Yoongi?”

 

He turned around and suddenly concern replaced his anger when he saw Jimin’s tear-filled eyes,

 

“What’s wrong? Are you thirsty again? Hungry?” Yoongi said, making the assumption that Jimin’s sadness was related to the fact he had been forced to hold a strenuous position for hours. He began to search around for something nice to offer the gladiator - water, wine, tea.

 

“No… no,” Jimin replied with a firm shake of his head. “Yoongi-hyung, Mah-Master Doyun is doing something to Tae-Taehyung and Jungkook… I-I don’t know what, I ca-can’t tell, but Jungkook has a sword and… and I can’t leave my position. I can’t disobey. I can't!”

 

“Stop rambling. I’m sure it’s not so bad?” Yoongi offered, although knowing his Master it wouldn’t be a pleasant situation for either gladiator involved.

 

“He’s got a fucking sword! He’s being made to stand in front of Taehyung and… and Taehyung is still tied up!” Jimin protested, clearly jerking his wrists in an attempt to wriggle out of his own chains.

 

“Don’t do that,” Yoongi said, reaching out to grab Jimin’s upper arm. “Calm down. Don’t start crying, Master will whip you if you cry at his party, just… stay here, alright? I’ll go look into it.”

 

“You’d do that? I don’t want you getting in trouble,” Jimin said, suddenly wishing he could wipe the tears from his eyes.

 

“Yeah, I’d do that,” Yoongi replied, and he couldn’t help but offer Jimin a small, but genuine smile. “I’d do that for you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Stab him?” Jungkook said, his eyes wide, betraying a mixture of emotions to his Master and Mistress. “Master? Stab… Stab him?”

 

“You heard me. I _know_ you know the non-fatal spots, Jungkook. Go on. Show him the potential injuries he could acquire in the arena,” Doyun prompted, nudging Jungkook forward. “Jungkook, I’m showing my nephew how obedient my men are. Do _not_ keep me waiting.”

 

In that moment, Hoseok’s stomach began to churn and he reached out, shaking his head quickly as he waved his hands in protest, “No, no uncle. I don’t want any blood spilled on my behalf.”

 

“Hoseok, you really don’t know how to have fun, do you? You don’t understand the excitement of seeing fresh blood? The excitement of knowing these gladiators are perhaps friends, but we can make them do whatever we want?” Doyun pressed.

 

Hoseok hated him.

 

Hoseok hated his uncle so much.

 

“Uncle Doyun, I am your guest of honour tonight. I request you spare your new gladiator the injury. It’s a party! Parties do not need violence,” he began to bullshit, not sure what else he could do, because it seemed appealing to his Uncle’s humanity was completely out of the question.

 

“Violence is exciting!”

 

“Wine is better!”

 

Uncle and nephew stopped to stare at each other; both stubborn, neither wanting to back down.

 

“Uncle Doyun, wouldn’t it be better if the first time his blood is spilled, it's... on the sands?” Hoseok suddenly said, hating himself for speaking disgusting words which were the antithesis of his cause. “Don’t waste it here.”

 

 _Forgive me, Taehyung. I’ll do my damn best to help you,_ Hoseok thought sadly.

 

“I like your thinking. Smart boy,” Doyun said, giving Namjoon a nod to signal that he should take the sword away. “Finally he sees sense! I was starting to worry about you, Hoseok-ah. You have been foolish in the past, idealistic, living with your head in the clouds.”

 

“I assure you I’m grounded, uncle,” Hoseok said, with a fake smile plastered on his face. Oh he was grounded alright; his desire to save people from men like his uncle grounded him and drove him forward.  

 

“Good. You know I want a supportive family,” Doyun added, his smile also bright and fake. His words, while friendly enough, sounded quite threatening and Hoseok found himself nodding his head shakily in response. While he wanted to help his uncle's slaves, he was still slightly afraid of the man and the power he wielded. 

 

Before he could say anything else, one of Doyun’s slaves walked up to the group and shocked Hoseok by speaking without being spoken to. Brave man.

 

“Master, is all okay?”

 

“Fuck off, Yoongi. Don’t interrupt,” Doyun spat. “And... and look at me when I’m talking to you. Namjoon isn’t going to stab you with the big scary weapon. Look. At. Me.”

 

Hoseok realised that the slave had been staring at Namjoon, or rather, the sword that was now in Namjoon’s hands.

 

“Master, I’ll put this away, shall I?” Namjoon offered weakly, before tacking on a quick order, “Yoongi. Come.”

 

The slave evidently didn’t take well to the Ludus' Doctore giving him an order and he muttered something under his breath.

 

“What was that?” Doyun prompted, prodding Yoongi’s shoulder harshly.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Speak boy. Now,” Doyun ordered with a deep scowl on his face.

 

“I-I said I would rather get hit by my Master than follow the Doctore's orders,” Yoongi mumbled.

 

Hoseok groaned and had to restrain himself from protectively placing himself between his uncle and Yoongi. He made a mental note to keep an eye on that one because if he was a lot of trouble to Doyun, he wouldn’t last much longer.

 

“You’re lucky it’s a party, Yoongi. Walk away now and hope I forget this conversation ever happened,” Doyun growled, shoving Yoongi hard. “Everyone go back to what they were doing. Hoseok… you mentioned wanting wine?”

 

Hoseok smiled uncomfortably at his uncle and aunt, but he nodded once and forced himself to laugh, “Yes. Wine would be lovely.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Yoongi actually said that?” Seokjin spluttered after listening to Namjoon recount the story. “What an idiot. Should have kept his mouth shut and followed you.”

 

“That’s the only reason why I ordered him! I knew Doyun would be pissed and I wanted him away from the situation before he got himself punished,” Namjoon said as he paced around the room. They were currently in the upstairs servant quarters where the cook, servants, and slaves all dwelled. It was much cleaner than the gladiator quarters, but more cramped as it was a room in the actual house and not part of the huge, unsightly basement. 

 

“You should stop caring so much about him. He’s… he’s never going to like you again,” Seokjin said softly, “Let him make his mistakes. We don’t need to protect him.”

 

Yoongi rejected their friendship, rejected their help, and was constantly hostile to them both. It was exhausting and Seokjin saw how much it hurt Namjoon, who had once considered Yoongi his best friend.

 

“How can you say that? I could never turn my back on him,” Namjoon replied, finally sinking down to sit with Seokjin on his mat. The room was currently deserted because every last servant was working at the party. The pair had somehow managed to slip away to talk, and both were grateful for this calm moment between them, in the middle of the stormy party.

 

“Because I speak to him more than you do. And even then, he spits poison at me when I try to talk to him,” Seokjin said calmly, placing his hand on top of Namjoon’s. “You should be more concerned about the fact your Master tried to make one of your men stab another.”

 

“Yeah... yeah, it was just awful,” Namjoon said with a shudder, “I was proud of Taehyung because he didn’t let his emotions surface. He stood calmly and waited, despite the fact he knew he would soon be in a lot of pain.”

 

“What about Jungkook?” Seokjin asked.

 

“Jungkook… looked like he wanted to cry. Most wouldn’t be able to tell, especially not Doyun, but I could,” Namjoon said, resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder.

 

Seokjin smiled sadly and began to run his fingers through Namjoon’s cropped hair. He couldn’t wait for the day Namjoon earned his freedom and began to grow his hair back to a socially acceptable length. As much as he adored his lover, the short hairstyles which were only worn by gladiators were so out of fashion and free people generally believed having short hair was degrading.

 

“You know, I really wanted to fuck you tonight, Joon,” Seokjin eventually whispered, pressing his lips to Namjoon’s temple. “But now? I just want to hold you.”

 

“Yeah?” Namjoon said. He sat up slowly and looked at Seokjin with a growing smile. “Switching it up a little tonight?”

 

“Aish, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s been a tough night for you,” Seokjin replied while trying to hide his own smile. “So I’ll hold you.”

 

“No fucking?” Namjoon teased, as all thoughts of the horrible party left his mind for a brief moment.

 

“Mmm… well, we’ll see how long it takes for them to notice we're gone.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“That was awful,” Taehyung muttered to Jimin as they scrubbed the oil off their chests and legs. “I never want to do a party like that again.”

 

“It seems like they’re pretty common unfortunately,” Jimin said, feeling a surge of gratitude to whoever the man was that stopped Doyun from stabbing his friend tonight. He had the full story retold by Taehyung as they walked downstairs to their home and ever since, Jimin had been a ball of rage. How fucking dare Doyun?

 

“Fantastic,” Taehyung replied sarcastically. “You know what? I hope I impress him in the arena. I want my first match to be successful because I’m sick of being the poor, sensitive gladiator who can’t handle shit and won’t be able to take pain.”

 

“I can’t remember seeing you this angry,” Jimin commented, and while he was angry at his Master and their situation, he was secretly relieved because Taehyung was finally feeling that _fight_ that gladiators needed to survive.

 

“Well no wonder. He ordered Jungkook to stab me! Jungkook, you’re furious too, right?” Taehyung asked, turning to his left to address his newer friend. He was surprised to find the space beside him empty and he quickly glanced around the room to search for him. “Jungkook? Jungkookie?”

 

“Wasn’t he just there? Wonder where he went,” Jimin said, splashing water on his face to clean off the make-up Namjoon had forced on his cheeks and lips.

 

“Hold on. I’ll go look,” Taehyung said, not satisfied without Jungkook’s presence in their ranting session. Even if things were still tense between Jungkook and Jimin, the gladiators were starting to warm to each other due to their respect for the bonds they both share with Taehyung.

 

Taehyung walked around the main gladiatorial living area and spotted every single gladiator except Jungkook. It took him a couple of minutes to notice the door which led to their outside training area was ajar. He slipped through and soon spotted Jungkook sitting alone, with his back against one of the high walls.

 

“Are you okay?” Taehyung called as he approached him. “Jungkook?”

 

When Jungkook lifted his head, he revealed red rimmed eyes to Taehyung.

 

“You’re crying?” He whispered. Jungkook nodded his head in response.

 

“Oh you’re crying,” Taehyung knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around him tightly. “You’re… really crying.” It was kind of strange for Taehyung to see the strongest gladiator in the Kang Ludus cry, but Jungkook was only human and _of course_ he had emotions. Jungkook curled up in his arms and pressed his face into Taehyung’s shoulder. He began to sob and clutched onto Taehyung tightly.

 

“I’ve got you, Jungkookie,” Taehyung said quietly, tightening his hold on the younger gladiator. “You’re safe.”

 

“You almost weren’t,” Jungkook’s voice piped up, and Taehyung chuckled, then kissed the top of his head in response. He imagined they wouldn’t be moving for a while, and knew that being allowed to see Jungkook vulnerable like this was a privilege. He felt grateful that Jungkook seemed to trust him this much.

 

“Almost. But I _am_ safe. I’m safe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew that was a WHIRLWIND OF A CHAPTER. So much drama. So much angst. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this one. Please let me know your thoughts!


	8. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this chapter. This chapter is a lot. It's an intense whirlwind.
> 
> (Note: I've added to the tags "light dom/sub" etc, because the start of this chapter has SLIGHT dom/sub play. I may return to it in later chapters, but for now it'll remain light and not relevant to the plot. If it's not your jam just skip it!)
> 
> All I can say is GOOD LUCK. (Also I've included a violence related TW in the end notes for those who need it.)

 

“Ow, fuck.”

 

Pain blossomed on Yoongi’s skin and he grunted, screwing his eyes shut.

 

Namjoon chuckled and smoothed his hand over Yoongi’s bare ass, soothing the sting away, “Keep counting, Yoongi.”

 

“Ten. And that’s hyung to you – ah, eleven,” he gasped, squirming on Namjoon’s lap as his friend brought his hand down again.

 

“I’ll never understand this about you, you know?” Namjoon said, dragging his nails down Yoongi’s thighs, because the bastard knew it would turn him on further. “Why you like pain so much.”

 

“Not intense pain! And only pain I’ve chosen to receive,” Yoongi explained, although he stopped to moan as Namjoon struck his ass again. “This is completely different to being struck by Doyun’s whip.”

 

“Well obviously, that thing is fucking nasty,” Namjoon said. “Count, _hyung_.”

 

“Twelve! And can we not discuss our Master while you spank me?” Yoongi turned to look over his shoulder at Namjoon.

 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Namjoon cooed. Yoongi melted when he felt his friend’s fingers carding through his hair, and he found himself relaxing back into his previous position. This was nice. It was always nice to play around with Namjoon and they had found themselves together on a lucky evening where both Master and Mistress were at a friend’s party.

 

So naturally they decided they would fuck on their bed.

 

“Have you had enough?” Namjoon asked, gently nudging Yoongi’s thighs open so he could trail his finger slowly across his perineum. Yoongi’s eyes fluttered shut and he parted his lips, gasping in response. “Well? Have you?”

 

“A couple more smacks. Then fuck me.”

 

“With pleasure.”

 

Namjoon’s voice was suddenly unusually high, so Yoongi looked back over his shoulder. He let out a yelp and tumbled off his lap and onto the floor.

 

“ _Jimin_?”

 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jimin smiled, leaning down to take Yoongi’s chin in his hand, guiding him to look up again.

 

“You… you – ah, you were just…”

 

“Hush. You’re being so loud,” Jimin teased, patting his thigh to encourage him to return to his position. “Come on.”

 

“But I-”

 

“Yoongi.”

 

“What’s-”

 

“ _Yoongi_.”

 

Yoongi jolted awake and he blinked up at Seokjin, who was standing over him. The room was still dark and when he looked around, the other slaves were all looking in his direction. Most people in the room looked either amused or irritated.

 

“Yoongi, you woke everyone up with your… noises,” Seokjin said, clearly trying to contain his laughter.

 

Yoongi’s cheeks went scarlet and he scowled up at Seokjin, before rolling onto his side to hide his growing problem. So apparently he had a sort of sex dream about Seokjin’s current lover and Seokjin may have overheard him moaning Namjoon’s name. Then again, he might have heard Yoongi mumbling about Jimin instead. How embarrassing.

 

What he had dreamed was a memory of a specific time that he and Namjoon had been together, back when they were lovers. It had been a risky move to fuck on their Master’s bed, but they didn’t get caught and had an enjoyable night. Jimin’s appearance in place of Namjoon was something which confused him however – he was aware that he was becoming a little bit protective of the gladiator, but his presence in the dream implied that there was something more there.

 

It had been a couple of days since the party and Yoongi’s mind had been occupied with thoughts of Jimin as he worked around the Ludus. Occasionally he’d slip out onto the balcony to watch the gladiators train, which was something he hadn’t done in over a year and a half. After he and Namjoon stopped sleeping together, he started to ignore the gladiatorial culture and simply focused on the tasks he was given upstairs.

 

Yoongi eventually sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, deciding to ignore the looks all the other slaves were giving him.

 

“I’m going to start getting dressed,” he said, his voice rougher than usual due to his interrupted sleep.

 

“Yoongi, it’s not even light outside yet. Master Doyun won’t need us for a few more hours yet,” Seokjin reminded Yoongi, offering him a small smile. “I know you like your sleep. I’m sorry for waking you.”

 

“You don’t know shit about me and you can’t tell me what to do,” Yoongi said sharply.

 

“Aish, I’m sick of this, Yoongi. Lay down and just fucking sleep,” Seokjin snapped in response.

 

Although it was dark in the room, Yoongi was certain that Seokjin could see him scowling, and he stood up and walked off angrily. There was no way in hell he’d let Seokjin boss him around or treat him like he was _lower_. Why was Yoongi lower than Seokjin? Because he wasn’t as pretty? Because Namjoon wanted him more? Because Seokjin was allowed the keys to the gladiator quarters and Yoongi wasn’t? Or perhaps just because Yoongi was the dongsaeng of the pair.

 

Maybe Master Doyun preferred Seokjin, but Yoongi wasn’t lower than him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi’s day dragged by. He watched the gladiators train while his Master and Mistress were busy, and when they appeared he returned to cleaning the Ludus.

 

After the party, Yoongi knew he was on thin ice and tried to make himself as quiet and scarce as possible. Doyun had been very kind that night and allowed him to escape without punishment, although a threat had hung in the air about what would happen if Yoongi messed up again. During the past few days, he bowed obediently when free people passed him, followed orders as quickly as possible, and even helped unpack the food delivery for the cooks which wasn’t his job.

 

All of his duties were completed by early evening, so he decided to sneak downstairs to the cellar in the hopes that Jimin would appear at the gate and they could talk for a while. He opened the door and started to descend the stairs. It only took him several steps before he spotted Namjoon and Seokjin embracing and he cursed under his breath.

 

Of course the time he decided to visit Jimin was also when Seokjin chose to fetch his lover. Naturally.

 

He turned on his heel and rushed back upstairs. He planned to return to his own quarters to rest until his Master requested his presence again.

 

Yoongi drifted in and out of sleep, having needed the nap after his early start, and as he slept the quarters slowly began to fill with servants who had either finished their duties, or were dismissed by Doyun for the evening. When he woke up properly, one of the other slaves, Minji, informed him that he wasn’t needed for the rest of the night.

 

“Are you sure Doyun doesn’t need us for anything else?” Yoongi asked her.

 

“Definitely not. I just bathed Mistress Seonhui with her good oils, they’ll be _preoccupied_ for the rest of the night,” Minji said with a small smirk.

 

This area of the Ludus was the only place any of them could speak freely. While there was a smaller, separate room for the female servants, most just spent time in the main quarters regardless, and gossip was commonplace.

 

“I thought I was supposed to serve them dinner,” Yoongi replied, rubbing his eyes.

 

“They ate early… while you were watching the gladiators,” Minji said, giving Yoongi a knowing look.

 

Yoongi glared at her.

 

“Whatever you’re implying, Minji: don’t. Don’t you fucking dare.”

 

“Oh, what happened to Minji-noona? And don’t speak so disrespectfully to me. You can pull that shit with Namjoon and Seokjin, but remember who took care of you when you were brought here,” Minji said sharply, her expression hard because she didn’t want her dongsaeng to think he could be hostile towards her.

 

“Sorry,” Yoongi muttered, glancing down in response to her scolding.

 

“That’s quite alright. Look, I just miss you calling me noona,” Minji replied, her face and tone of voice softening once Yoongi apologised.

 

Yoongi was silent for a moment, before he sighed and stood up, “I’m going to go for a bath. It’ll be quiet now.”

 

As he walked out the room, Yoongi caught her sad expression but he chose to just ignore it. His anger with Namjoon had caused him to burn most, if not all, of his bridges and that included the woman who had acted like a big sister to him from the moment he arrived at the Ludus.

 

It was cruel really, the extent of the misery Namjoon’s carelessness had caused.

 

He opened the door to the servants’ bathing room and choked when his eyes fell on the two nude bodies that were energetically writhing together on the edge of the pool.

 

Namjoon had Seokjin perched on the side of the bath, while he stood in the water. Seokjin’s legs were tightly wrapped around Namjoon’s waist while he pounded into him. Namjoon buried his head in the crook of Seokjin’s neck, causing the latter to gasp: “Don’t leave a mark.”

 

“You’re beautiful,” Namjoon groaned, kissing along Seokjin’s neck and jawline, until he found his lips again. Their kiss grew rougher, more passionate, and Yoongi’s stomach churned as stood frozen in place.

 

“Ahh Joon, please fuck- _fuck._ Fuck me harder,” Seokjin moaned.

 

Enough. That was enough. Yoongi turned around and hastily closed the door, not wanting to see any more of the awful sight before him. Even with the door shut, he could hear their moans and shouts of pleasure, and he wanted to erase those sounds from his mind.

 

Yoongi stomped away from the room quickly and let his feet carry him as far away from the bathing room as possible. He found himself standing outside Master Doyun’s personal office.

 

Normally, Yoongi didn’t have permission to go in unless directly ordered to, but if Namjoon could break the rules so wildly, so he could he. He glanced left, right, and then slipped inside the room, feeling that thrill which only came from disobeying his Master. Besides, there was no way he would be caught – Doyun and Mistress Seonhui were _occupied._

 

He walked to the desk and picked up the book which held every gladiator’s earnings and flicked to Namjoon’s page. The Doctore had been there for years and with the wins he had, plus his earnings as Doctore, he would surely be close to buying his freedom now... something which Yoongi did not want. 

 

Yoongi’s heart sank when he saw the number. Fuck. It would only take two more successful games for him to add enough earnings to his pot to get out. As long as the Ludus had winning gladiators, Namjoon could take a cut of their winnings as a reward for his diligent training. Two more games. There was one due soon, and then another in about three months.

 

“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed, shoving the book away from him out of anger, causing it to fly off the table and land on the floor. He crouched down to retrieve it and noticed it was open on a different page.

 

Jimin. _Mun_ pot: nil.

 

“Shit,” Yoongi said to himself as he compared the pages between Jimin and Jungkook. Apparently none of Jimin’s previous winnings from his last Ludus had carried over. “Oh Jiminie.”

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Yoongi’s head snapped up and his eyes fell upon his Master’s looming form.

 

“Yes? Yoongi? Do you want to explain yourself?” Doyun said, snatching the book from Yoongi’s hand. He slammed it down on the desk, and the noise made Yoongi jump.

 

“Master, I-I…” Yoongi stuttered. There was no way he could possibly explain what he was doing to Doyun; he was clearly sitting inside a room which he didn’t have permission to enter and he was obviously holding a book that had private information inside. Caught red handed.

 

“Snooping. Looking through my things, envious of those who have a fucking chance to pay their way out?” Doyun leaned down so his face was inches from Yoongi, who merely shrank back in response.

 

“I… didn’t mean to – Master I’m sorry,” Yoongi said, his brain suddenly waking up from the shock of being caught, and he scrambled to get onto his knees.

 

“Come with me,” Doyun said. He grabbed Yoongi’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

 

“No, no please, I’m sorry,” Yoongi gasped as he was led through the house, knowing his Master would probably get out his whip. His arm would no doubt bruise too, due to the tightness of Doyun’s grip, but he could handle that. The whip was agonising and he was terrified of going through that punishment. 

 

“You’ve been a fucking nightmare for days now, Yoongi, it’s time I taught you a proper lesson.”

 

Doyun yanked him to the door which led to the cellar and Yoongi tried not to stumble as he was pulled down the stairs.

 

“Why are we-”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Doyun unlocked the gate and shoved Yoongi through first, before stepping inside and slamming it behind him.

 

“Namjoon?” Doyun shouted as they barged into the gladiators’ sleeping area. Most of them were sitting chatting, some still eating their dinner, and one or two were asleep.

 

Namjoon’s blissful expression faded when he saw his Master, and he stood up and bowed. “Master Doyun… what… what’s happening?”

 

“I caught him looking through my private documents. I want him punished,” Doyun said, kicking the back of Yoongi’s legs to make him fall to his knees. Yoongi stayed silent, although pain blossomed on the area that was kicked. 

 

“Yoongi?”

 

“Yes, Yoongi. Who else?”

 

“Sorry, Master… but why are you here? I thought this kind of discipline was handled upstairs in the house... only gladiators get punished down here.”

 

“He was looking through the gladiator documents, looking at everyone’s winnings, so I thought I’d give him a little taste of what it’s like to be a gladiator. Including a punishment from the Doctore,” Doyun said, grinning slyly at Namjoon.

 

Namjoon’s face paled and he shook his head quickly, “I’d… really rather not.”

 

“Not a request. It’s an order. Get two of your men to drag him outside, tie him to a post, and lash him. Now.”

 

Yoongi refused to look at Namjoon’s face and kept his eyes fixed on the ground. His heart was racing and he felt sick. His ex-lover and ex-friend was going to punish him and there was nothing either of them could do.

 

And honestly, at this point Yoongi was sure Namjoon would be happy to carry out the task.

 

“Very well,” Namjoon eventually said, before clearing his throat. “Jungkook, Taehyung… take him outside.”

 

Yoongi felt two hands curl around each of his arms and he was pulled to his feet again. Despite their impressive muscles, their grip was much lighter than that of their Master, but they still dragged him firmly towards the door.

 

Once they were outside, they brought him to one of the wooden posts that were planted in the middle of the training field. Sometimes these posts were used as target practice with weapons, and occasionally they aided punishments like this. One hand gently pushed him to his knees, and he heard a gruff voice tell him to take off his shirt.

 

“You’re not my Master,” Yoongi muttered.

 

“Yoongi. Don’t make this worse. Take off your shirt,” the new voice behind him ordered, and Yoongi knew it belonged to Namjoon. For the first time in over a year, he followed Namjoon’s orders without arguing, and slipped off the top part of his servant’s hanbok. He placed it on the sand beside him and rested his head on the wooden post, willing the pain and humiliation to be over quickly.

 

Gentle hands tugged his arms around the post and tied his wrists together with a length of rope. He didn’t bother to look at whatever gladiator was securing him to the post, he just squeezed his eyes shut and waited.

 

“Master, how many?” Namjoon asked, sounding bored. _Bored_.

 

“Fuck him,” Yoongi said under his breath.

 

“As many as it takes for the lesson to sink in. I’ll see how I feel,” Doyun replied. He was standing next to Namjoon, arms crossed, ready to oversee the session. “Go on. Begin.”

 

Yoongi clasped his hands together, and he gripped his palms tightly in an attempt to stop himself from trembling as he anticipated the first strike.

 

 Suddenly, there was a white hot pain across his back and he bit down on his lip to stop himself from crying out.

 

“Count.”

 

Yoongi had no idea whether Doyun or Namjoon gave the order, but he nodded his head shakily and forced himself to speak, “One.”

 

The second strike landed parallel to the first and Yoongi stifled another cry. Then the third fell, criss crossing the first two. “Two… three.”

 

By the fifth, Yoongi had stopped trying to hold in his cries.

 

By the tenth, Yoongi wailed every time the whip landed.

 

“Ten, fuck please, please Master please,” Yoongi begged. His back felt wet from both blood and sweat, while tears ran down his cheeks. “Please.”

 

“Keep going, Namjoon.” Doyun’s voice was sharp and cruel, and Yoongi let out a sob. 

 

The whip struck him again and he thrashed, trying to get away from the lashes. “E-Eleven, please. I’m sorry. Please.”

 

The next lash made him jerk so hard, he banged his head against the post.

 

“Speak, Yoongi. Tell us how many that was.”

 

Yoongi’s head was spinning and he was fighting to keep consciousness; the agony he was suffering overpowering his mind.

 

“Yoongi you better fucking speak!”

 

“Twelve, it was twelve,” a softer voice interrupted.

 

“Did I ask you?” Doyun spat, “Shut up Jimin or you’ll be next.”

 

Jimin. Jimin had spoken for him. He was watching? Seeing him like this? The thought would normally bring shame to Yoongi, but right now he was too dizzy and weak to care, simply grateful that Jimin spoke out for him.

 

“Twelve,” Yoongi whispered, slumping down further.

 

There was a pause in the strikes and Yoongi could hear footsteps growing closer. Suddenly his hair was yanked and he was forced to look up into the eyes of his Master.

 

“I think you’ve almost learned your lesson,” Doyun growled, refusing to ease up on his grip. “Your jealousy of the gladiators has also earned you a short stay. Forty eight hours. You can live downstairs in the bowels of the Ludus and _pray_ that they take pity on you.”

 

He had to stay downstairs? He wasn’t allowed up to his quarters? Minji-noona wouldn’t clean his back for him and sing him to sleep? He let out a whine and Doyun let go of his hair and slapped his cheek.

 

“You’re a new toy for them. They might beat you worse, who knows? They certainly won’t clean up that bloody back of yours.”

 

“Please,” Yoongi whispered. His throat was raw from screaming, and his head too woozy to form a coherent or clear sentence. “Please.”

 

“I’ll get someone to fetch you in forty eight hours... if I remember, that is. Beg Namjoon to protect you. The Doctore’s the only one who can control these beasts.”

 

Yoongi was vaguely aware of Doyun leaving the field, and after a moment, he felt the gentle hands return to remove the rope from his wrists.

 

“Someone get water and rags.”

 

“He’s bleeding really badly.”

 

“Go now. Clear a mat for him. Put it on the table.”

 

“He’s barely conscious. Fuck Doyun.”

 

“I’ll carry him.”

 

“No you won’t, I will.” The voice that spoke was the one closest to him. The one which belonged to the man with the gentle hands. Yoongi forced himself to look up and his gaze met soft, kind eyes.

 

“Jimin.”

 

And everything went dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Corporal punishment/whipping. It's not ridiculously graphic, but it's quite intense. Wounds and blood are referenced.
> 
> No new words in this chapter!
> 
> It was great writing a chapter solely from Yoongi's perspective. I'm really sorry - I know that was angsty and sad, but I hope you enjoyed regardless! Just think what this will do to Namjoon and Yoongi's already damaged relationship. But also think... 48 hours down in the Ludus. A lot of Yoonmin interaction.
> 
> For Taekook fans, I'm sorry there wasn't anything in this chapter except a sentence! There will be some more in chapter 9 and PLENTY in chapter 10.
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you thought!


	9. 48 Hours (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! I've done it on purpose because chapter ten won't be with you guys until Wednesday at the earliest next week. I'm away on Holiday! 
> 
> However this chapter is around 4000 words long so I hope the length makes up for it. There's something for mostly everyone in this - Taekook, Yoonmin, Namjoon and Yoongi's history, and some VMin friendship. (No Seokjin and Hoseok this time! Sorry!)
> 
> I've separated the forty eight hours into two parts because I was approaching my deadline and still had far far too much to write. I hope you enjoy!

 

_Hour One: Dusk_

 

 

“Everyone get inside now.”

 

Namjoon’s voice rang out across the training yard and all the gladiators scurried to obey.

 

Taehyung had yet to move. The punishment scene which played out before him was burned into his mind and all he could see was the blood splattered across the slave’s pale back.

 

When Taehyung was still free, his parents had a reasonable amount of money; they owned a large property, jewels, and several slaves. Taehyung used to get dressed by his slaves, have them brush his hair, and listen to his numerous orders. Although he only ever verbally berated those who made mistakes, he was vaguely aware of Masters like Doyun who would order a whip to be taken to those who fucked up. But what could he have said? One single person couldn’t change an entire system!

 

Still, it was different witnessing it first hand, and even scarier with the knowledge that he could be in a similar position if he were to mess up.

 

“I said everyone inside!” Namjoon ordered, although he was barely watching the remaining gladiators. Instead, he crouched down beside Yoongi and Jimin, carefully assessing Yoongi’s wounds and instructing Jimin on how best to carry him.

 

Taehyung watched the trio with a lump in his throat.

 

“Taehyung, we’ve got to go,” Jungkook interrupted his thoughts, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Doctore wants us inside.”

 

“He’s in so much pain,” he whispered, keeping his gaze fixed on Yoongi.

 

“It’s honestly a good thing he’s unconscious right now. It means Namjoon can clean his wounds without him feeling any extra pain,” Jungkook said, in an attempt to be helpful.  “The remedies can sting.”

 

“That should have never happened. Why did he do that?” Taehyung whispered. He paused to look up at the balcony, assuming that their Master was out watching, but the area was deserted.

 

“Who Doyun? Clearly Yoongi fucked up badly and needed to be punished,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

 

“But that’s wrong. No fuck up should have earned him that pain! That humiliation!” Taehyung protested, his eyes wide and fearful. “Look at him!”

 

Jimin was now cradling Yoongi in his arms, carefully holding his shoulders and knees so that his bare back wouldn’t be disturbed. Yoongi was unconscious and limp, with his eyes shut, lips parted, and beads of sweat dampening strands of his hair to his forehead and cheeks. His bun which was normally impeccable, had all but unravelled and his skin looked sallow and sickly.

 

“He’ll be taken care of. It’s not uncommon to see someone whipped in the yard, although it’s usually one of us. He must have really pissed off Doyun, because usually household staff are punished upstairs in their own quarters,” Jungkook said softly.

 

“How can you be so casual about this?” Taehyung demanded.

 

“Weren’t you a free man? Surely you’ve seen a Master disciplining his slave, surely you’re used to this sight,” Jungkook replied impatiently. “It’s the way of our world! If you had slaves, you acted like Master Doyun, right?”

 

“No! Never! I was a kind Master!”

 

“There’s no such thing.”

 

Taehyung froze and met Jungkook’s gaze, “Of… of course there is.”

 

“You may think you were kind, nice, gentle… perhaps you were, but you still restricted people’s freedom,” Jungkook said, his voice somehow sympathetic.

 

“No. No I-”

 

“It’s alright. Taehyung, like I said: it’s the way our world works. Yoongi will survive. His forty eight hours will finish and he will resume his duties as usual. We will continue to train and soon face opponents in the arena, life goes on.”

 

“I was never bad,” Taehyung said, his voice much smaller than before. “Never like Doyun, I just-”

 

“Didn’t care? Accepted the way the world was? Turned a blind eye?”

 

“Stop.”

 

“You accepted this way of life when you were a free person. Now you have to accept it as a slave. It’s the same rules, you just have a different perspective,” Jungkook reached out to take Taehyung’s hand. “I accept my fate. Please try to accept yours.”

 

Taehyung looked down at their hands, stiffening when he felt Jungkook’s thumb brush over his skin. He assumed the gesture was supposed to be reassuring, but it seemed mocking.

 

“Doctore Namjoon ordered us inside,” he said, pulling his hand out of Jungkook’s grip.

 

“Taehyung, I didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“I have to help Jimin,” Taehyung replied firmly, “And you should know better. Don’t hold hands on the training field. Doyun may see and punish us both for rule breaking.”

 

With that, he turned and walked back into the Ludus, following Namjoon and Jimin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jimin had been victorious on the sands of the arena numerous times, but he had never seen so much blood coming from one person.

 

At least that’s how it felt.

 

“He won’t stop bleeding,” Namjoon hissed, still holding sheets of clean bandages between his teeth.

 

“Don’t panic, just keep cleaning alright?” Jimin said as he washed a bloodied rag in the wooden bucket. “We can’t have his back getting infected.”

 

“Of course I’m panicking, I can’t do this, I need Seokjin,” Namjoon stuttered, taking another cloth bandage so he could lay it along one of the welts, watching it instantly stain red.

 

“Seokjin?”

 

“The servant! You know him. He’s better at this, can you go beg Doyun to let Seokjin come down here?”

 

“I don’t think Doyun will-”

 

“Now, Jimin.”

 

“But he seems unsympathetic and- and he might not even be at the gate, how will I-”

 

“Jimin just go!” Namjoon snapped, slowly wiping Yoongi’s blood from his skin.

 

Jimin jumped up and nodded, casting a sympathetic look to Namjoon as he walked in the direction of the gate. His heart was pounding erratically and his ears were ringing. He was usually good with blood and violence, but seeing Yoongi hurt scared him. His hands were bloodied due to the help he gave Namjoon, although he was no expert on cleaning and healing wounds. In his old Ludus, if he got injured in a fight he just tied a scrap of fabric around himself and got on with practice.

 

He walked into the storage area and rattled the bars, hoping to catch Seokjin or another slave’s attention. “Someone help us! Please? Please! We need a healer, we need someone who knows medicines well… we need… someone who isn’t a gladiator!”

 

Silence.

 

“Please? Master Doyun, please grant a healer permission to enter. Doctore isn’t skilled enough, neither am I. Please!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Master Doyun? Mistress Seonhui? Anyone!”

 

It seemed like Jimin had screamed his voice hoarse and he fell to his knees in front of the bars. Tears pricked in his eyes and he bowed his head, his shoulders beginning to shake from desperation and the need to help Yoongi survive.

 

“I’m begging. We need help.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Four: Night_

 

 

“Jimin? There you are,” Taehyung said softly, placing his hand on Jimin’s shoulder, shaking him gently to wake him up.

 

“Mhmm?”

 

Jimin looked soft and sweet when he slept; innocent, unlike his day-to-day life which was so full of blood and violence.

 

“You’ve been missing for hours,” Taehyung pointed out as he crouched down beside Jimin. He had fallen asleep in the storage area, curled up next to the bars. One of his hands still touched the bars and Taehyung reached down to pick it up and hold it.

 

“What… what happened?” Jimin asked, clearly still half-asleep.

 

“Well Namjoon said he sent you to ask for help with Yoongi. Seokjin never showed up but-”

 

“Yoongi!” Jimin gasped, suddenly sitting up straight. “Where is Yoongi? Is he alright? Did anyone come to help?”

 

“Shhh, settle,” Taehyung said, reaching out to stroke Jimin’s hair back from his face in a manner which he hoped was comforting. “Yoongi’s fine. He’s sleeping now.”

 

“But the blood?”

 

“He’s all patched up. Stopped bleeding not long after you left. I went in and took over from Namjoon,” Taehyung explained, sitting down across from Jimin, leaning his back against the bars. He kept a tight hold of Jimin's hand though.

 

“You took over?” Jimin said softly and he began to study Taehyung carefully, confused because he hadn't known Taehyung to be the healing type.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You… how did you know what to do?”

 

“I have some medical training,” Taehyung shrugged, “Never used it before now, wasn’t at Master Lee’s Ludus long enough to need it.”

 

“But you never told me you could help,” Jimin replied, settling down beside Taehyung properly so they were sitting side by side. “That would have been useful to know.”

 

“Never felt like it was. You’re always fight, fight, fight. You never talk about needing to heal,” Taehyung said with a gentle tone, then he gave Jimin’s hand a light squeeze.

 

“I guess that’s true. I don’t really give a shit if I get wounded in a fight, as long as I win. But I care if someone like Yoongi gets hurt,” he replied, looking down at his lap; seemingly embarrassed that fresh tears were building in his eyes.

 

“That really was cruel, wasn’t it? Even if he did fuck up, he shouldn’t have been punished that hard. Or at all. It’s cruel to punish people,” Taehyung rambled, while remembering Jungkook’s words from earlier. “It’s cruel to own people really.”

 

“Yeah, of course it is, but we’re used to it,” Jimin said simply. “And Doyun was trying to do his job as Master… but Yoongi- Yoongi didn’t deserve that.”

 

“So you don’t mind being punished?”

 

“I don’t really mind if I’m the one being punished. I hate seeing it happen to those I care about,” Jimin said, although he knew his way of thinking was slightly warped. He should be sick to his stomach at the thought of being punished himself, instead of acting detached and unconcerned. 

 

Taehyung blinked and stared down at their joined hands. Both Jungkook and Jimin had strange perspectives on their own lives as far as Taehyung was concerned. Both really should want to fight back more. Jungkook clearly had an anger about his life, but he accepted things as they came and showed no sympathy towards those who were in similar positions. Jimin? He accepted what happened to him and acknowledged that their Master was doing his duty, and his only difference to Jungkook was he cared more about others.

 

Fuck. Would Taehyung become like that? Would he be nonchalant if Jungkook or Jimin got punished? Or would he care but not give a fuck if he himself suffered?

 

“You really care about Yoongi, huh?” Taehyung eventually replied.

 

“I don’t know why,” Jimin admitted. “We’ve only met a handful of times and he’s hardly sunshine and rainbows. He insults me!”

 

“But he’s handsome, isn’t he?” Taehyung said with a small laugh, nudging Jimin’s side.

 

“He is,” Jimin said with a subtle smile. “And he cares in his own way. I like him a lot.”

 

“Good. I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.”

 

“As do you. And… as much as it pains me to say it, it’s cute seeing you and Jungkook together,” Jimin said, prodding Taehyung’s side playfully as he spoke. “Maybe he’s not so bad after all.”

 

Taehyung stiffened and turned his head. “Actually, I don’t think Jungkook likes me very much and I don’t think he’d wail at a gate for hours if I was whipped unconscious.”

 

“Do you plan on getting whipped unconscious?”

 

“ _Park Jimin_.”

                           

“I’m your hyung!”

 

“That really wasn’t funny though,” Taehyung complained, giving Jimin a light shove.

 

“It was a little funny,” Jimin replied with a giggle. “But don’t speak so soon, Taehyung-ah. Jungkook cares.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Eight: Sunrise_

 

 

“Everyone outside. Onto the field. Now,” Namjoon barked as he clapped his hands together, demanding the attention of the entire room.

 

It seemed like everyone had slept badly after the display last night. Most were restless due to their fear of experiencing the same treatment, but a couple of people like himself and Jimin tossed and turned due to their worry for Yoongi.

 

“Do you need me to check Yoongi’s bandages before I go?” Taehyung chirped, looking far too cheery for Namjoon’s liking.

 

“You don’t think your Doctore can handle a simple bandage change? Get the fuck out, Taehyung!” Namjoon snapped. He pointed his hand at the door.

 

“We’re not finished our breakfast!” One of the gladiators piped up around a mouthful of food.

 

“Now.”

 

“It’s too early, some of us still have to bathe,” Jungkook argued back.

 

“Jungkook, shut up. You’re leading practice today remember? And you of all people should mind your manners.”

 

“But Doctore-”

 

“Hungry!”

 

“I need-”

 

“What part of now don’t you all understand? I swear, anyone who isn’t out on the field in ten seconds will understand why I’m Doctore,” Namjoon threatened, his eyes narrowing at the group. “Ten. Nine. Eight…”

 

That got them to scramble. He had never seen this particular group of men move so fast in their lives, and in less than five seconds the living area was clear, except for himself, Yoongi’s sleeping body, and - “Jimin! I said go outside.”

 

Jimin blinked at him owlishly and shook his head, “But… Yoongi.”

 

“I’ll take care of him.”

 

“He doesn’t like you very much, can’t I stay inside?” Jimin ventured, and Namjoon’s temper flared up. He marched over and took Jimin by the ear, then led him out to the field.

 

“Jungkook, you’re in charge. Jimin, you’re his personal slave today. Do as he says!”

 

And with that, Namjoon walked back inside and slammed the door of the Ludus behind him.

 

A soft groan came from the unconscious man and he gasped and ran over to his side. “Yoongi? Hyung? Are you awake?”

 

He saw Yoongi stir; his eyes flicker open briefly, although he soon shut them and curled up further, going back to sleep.

 

“You still sleep with your hands tucked between your thighs, huh?” Namjoon said softly. “Always so cute, hyung.”

 

He sat down beside Yoongi and gently rolled him onto his front, “Let’s have a look at these bandages. You gave me quite a scare yesterday, you know?”

 

The bandages needed changed. Maybe Namjoon shouldn’t have sent Taehyung away, but he needed time alone with Yoongi; he owed him that much, even if he wasn’t awake to know it.

 

“So much blood loss. I whipped you pretty hard, didn’t I? Not as hard as I could have done, although I bet you wouldn’t believe that. The moment you wake you’re going to curse me out and call me cruel and evil,” Namjoon said conversationally, as he went to get fresh bandages for Yoongi. “I was using the least strength I could get away with using under Doyun’s watchful eyes.”

 

He paused.

 

“If Seokjin had been in your position, I wouldn’t have whipped him any lighter. That you _really_ wouldn’t believe, but honestly Yoongi, I used as little strength as I could.”

 

Seokjin. It was always about Seokjin with Yoongi. Although Yoongi claimed that he was never in love with Namjoon, he had certainly reacted like a broken hearted lover when Namjoon had informed him that he was in love.

 

“I had plans for us. You, me, Seokjin. I’d buy all our freedom and move us somewhere far away - like Daegu! We’d move into a small house, you and Seokjin would teach me how to read and write so I could start to use my big brain,” Namjoon said quietly. “I’d go find work, I’d be with Seokjin… but we’d find you a nice person too… a woman or man who you loved and who was good enough for you.”

 

He changed the first few bandages and when he was done, he smoothed his hand over Yoongi’s unmarked shoulders.

 

 “You claimed you didn’t love me, but you rejected the freedom I was going to offer you because I loved another. You rejected me and Seokjin and… and we miss you. Seokjin pretends to have turned his back on you, but I bet he cried when he heard what happened last night.”

 

Namjoon paused.

 

“I cried. I cried so hard while Taehyung fixed you up. I think he saw but I don’t care. I-I hate this life, I hate having to discipline people, I hate barking orders and keeping gladiators from the ones they love. Like Jimin. Jimin wants to be in here so badly today… he’s a nice person, you know? And he’s good enough for you. You’ll never know how gentle he was last night with you… how panicked he got when we couldn’t fix you.”

 

Once Yoongi’s bandages were fixed, Namjoon tugged the leather band out of his friend's hair to free it from his bun. His long hair was dirty and needed some care, but Namjoon imagined if the bun were to stay in any longer, it would pinch and hurt Yoongi’s head.

 

“Let… let me braid your hair. Okay? Let me take care of you like I promised. It still stands, Yoongi. I’ll always take care of you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Eighteen: Afternoon_

 

 

“Again.”

 

“Aigo, Jungkook, my back hurts,” Jimin complained, but Jungkook had no sympathy for him whatsoever.

 

“I said again. Remember what Namjoon said: you’re my slave today,” Jungkook smiled a satisfied smile, one that he knew Jimin would expect from him. He clapped his hands and Jimin begrudgingly got to his feet.

 

They had spent the morning exercising and building up their stamina. After lunch, he spent two hours on weapons practice and now he was overseeing hand to hand combat.

 

Using Jimin as the ‘opponent from another Ludus.’

 

Almost everyone had taken their shot against Jimin and he hadn’t had a break in the past two hours. Good.

 

Jungkook wasn’t doing this to be cruel, not at all. It also wasn’t a way to torment Jimin or born out of their rivalry. He had decided to ask Jimin to play the opponent to keep his mind off a certain slave who was probably still unconscious inside. Everyone could tell how Jimin felt after yesterday’s display, and he felt a pang of sympathy for him. Thus, he was determined to keep his mind off the matter.

 

Jimin had been thrown on the ground, shoved against the wall, bashed into the wooden posts, along with punched, slapped, and kicked. He would be sore, he would be bruised, but his mind was not on Yoongi.

 

Jungkook looked around the tired group of gladiators and his eyes focused on Taehyung. “You’ve still not fought Jimin, right Tae?”

 

“No.”

 

Taehyung looked quite sullen and Jungkook had to suppress a groan. He was aware he had been quite hard on the other last night; he hadn’t meant to, just sometimes he has a habit of speaking without thinking.

 

“Well you’re going to. Starting positions.”

 

“No.”

 

“No? Taehyung, I’m in charge of training today,” Jungkook said slowly, his stomach filling with dread as Taehyung denied his order.

 

“I don’t care. Look at Jimin, he’s exhausted,” Taehyung said, nodding to his friend. “We’re all exhausted.”

 

“Actually you’ve hardly done anything, Taehyung. You’ve worked much less than everyone else here,” Jungkook pointed out, his ‘speaking without thinking’ flaw in full effect.

 

Taehyung simply scowled.

 

“Taehyung. Fight Jimin.”

 

“No. I refuse. What’re you going to do? Tie me to the post? Lash me like Namjoon did to Yoongi?” Taehyung demanded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

“Um. No? I’m not Doctore,” Jungkook said slowly, and he began to wonder how he would get the group back under his control again. It had been going really well so far, but this conversation was dampening his spirits.

 

“Would you even care if you did?” Taehyung demanded; a question which made Jungkook frown. He felt confused and slightly hurt - of course he would care!

 

“Everyone… just…” _Just what, Jungkook? Get back to work? Shut up?_ “…take a break. Jimin, go get some water.”

 

Jungkook was tired himself. He liked being champion of the Ludus, but he hated running these training sessions and didn’t have the stomach for taking control of the group. That job was Namjoon’s through and through. He walked away from the group and slumped down under the balcony, burying his head in his hands.

 

What a day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Twenty Four: Dusk_

 

 

The first thing Yoongi thought when he woke up was that he needed more sleep. It had been over a day of him slipping in and out of consciousness, his body’s way of protecting itself from the pain he felt, but he somehow still felt exhausted and wanted to drift off again.

 

His second thought was: _SHIT. I’M WITH THE GLADIATORS._

Namjoon wouldn’t protect him if they decided they wanted a punching bag. Jimin was too new to have a high and respected ranking inside the Ludus, which left him vulnerable and without anyone to help.

 

He tried to sit up and let out a yelp as pain shot up his back.

 

“Yoongi’s awake!” An unfamiliar voice called. Great. Of course he’d draw attention to himself in some way, and now he wouldn’t get any peace.

 

“Yoongi?” Another voice said, but this one was more familiar.

 

“Jimin?” He replied, his voice hoarse. He realised it was probably due to the screaming, crying, and begging during his punishment the previous day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

“Oh Yoongi, thank goodness you’re awake,” Jimin said, walking close to him. “I was worried.”

 

“You were worried?” Yoongi asked, rubbing his eyes. He wanted to yawn and stretch, but he had a feeling his back wouldn’t enjoy that.

 

“Of course I was. What happened was brutal,” Jimin knelt beside him and offered him a soft smile. “How do you feel?”

 

“Wonderful. My back has never felt better.”

 

“Really?” Jimin asked, with a wrinkled nose.

 

“No, fuck, it’s agony. I’m in agony.”

 

“Aish, still so sarcastic,” Jimin said, with a note of chiding in his voice, though Yoongi found he didn’t mind so much. He just stuck his tongue out in response.

 

“Someone as cute as you shouldn’t be that sarcastic,” Jimin teased, to which Yoongi made a noise of protest.

 

“If I could move, you’d be so dead for that comment,” Yoongi groaned, earning a soft, light laugh from Jimin.

 

“You against a gladiator? Well, okay,” Jimin joked. "Bring it on."

 

Yoongi sighed and shook his head, deciding to drop the subject and move onto something he was curious about. “Jimin? What happened after I fell unconscious?”

 

“Well… I carried you inside. The gladiators made a space for you, got a mat for you, and we’ve been caring for you ever since. You bled for a while, kept soaking through your bandages, but Taehyung managed to help. The rest of the time, you’ve really just slept, and Namjoon has been changing your bandages and watching over you. You’ve been unconscious for a day.”

 

“Namjoon? The bastard who whipped me?” Yoongi grumbled, laying back down on the mat. He was unhappy to hear that Namjoon was pretending to care, when in reality the Doctore probably took a lot of pleasure out of what happened that night.

 

“Namjoon is kind,” Jimin said slowly.

 

“No. He’s not. Don’t let him fool you,” Yoongi hissed, rolling to face away from Jimin, wiping a stray tear from his cheek angrily.

 

“He is kind,” Jimin repeated.

 

“Shut up. You’re new, you don’t know any better.”

 

“Yoongi-”

 

“Yoongi settle down,” Namjoon interrupted, walking over with a neutral expression on his face. “The room is small and you’re both talking loudly. Anyone still awake can hear your conversation.”

 

Yoongi stiffened and curled up on himself further. Oh great, now Namjoon was going to chew him out for being ‘mean’ again.

 

“Yoongi, I’m glad to see you awake… and spirited. Very glad to see you’ve still got your spirits,” Namjoon said, never betraying any emotions in his voice.

 

“Yeah. Whatever. I’m going back to sleep.”

 

“Yoongi?” Jimin said quietly.

 

“No. I’ve got another day in this hellhole, I hope to sleep through it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So Yoongi will 100% not sleep through the next twenty four hours. I can promise you that.
> 
> As usual, I hope you enjoyed reading! Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Just another reminder, I won't post til Wednesday (at the earliest) due to my holiday this weekend!


	10. 48 Hours (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I am so sorry this took so long to come out. I had a great holiday, but when I returned I had total writer's block. I'm happy to finally bring you guys chapter 10 and hope you enjoy it!

 

 

_Hour Twenty Eight: Night._

_Dream._

 

 

 

“Yoongi-hyung?”

 

“Yes Namjoon, I’m here,” Yoongi said, speaking out to Namjoon through the darkness. “Easy, don’t sit up too quickly.”

 

Namjoon’s head was pounding and he could barely open his eyes, but he hated being weak and moved to get up regardless of Yoongi's warning. The moment he jerked his leg, he screamed and flailed until he clamped his hand down on Yoongi’s arm.

 

“That would be your leg injury. Namjoon-ah, lay back down,” Yoongi requested, guiding him to slowly sink back onto the mat.

 

“Leg injury?”

 

“You don’t remember? You were in the arena and your opponent sliced your leg open with his sword,” Yoongi said gently, his hand settling on Namjoon’s head in an attempt to calm him and then he began to stroke his hair.

 

Namjoon paused and thought for a moment, in an attempt to recollect the events of the match. He remembered walking onto the sands and raising his sword high; he remembered the cheers of the crowd and the way they chanted his name… and pain.

 

“My leg,” Namjoon whispered and he slowly looked down to see the blood-stained bandages which covered his thigh. “It was agony. I lost my balance and slammed to the ground, right? And... and there was a lot of blood?”

 

“Yes, Joon,” Yoongi replied, his voice soft and soothing. “A lot of blood. You were barely conscious. The opponent had you pinned to the ground with a sword at your neck.”

 

“I was spared?”

 

“No, you’re dead and I’m the fucker chosen to usher you to your new life. Hope you like the idea of being reborn as a crab,” Yoongi deadpanned.

 

“Crabs are cute!”

 

“So are you,” Yoongi replied, leaning in to kiss Namjoon’s forehead. “And thankfully yes, you were spared. You put up a good fight, you did the Ludus proud, and I think Master Doyun is finally ready to choose a new Doctore.”

 

“Nah. I mean, that’s a nice thought but I just need to rest for a while,” Namjoon said, offering Yoongi up a smile. “And then I’ll go back to the sands.”

 

“Namjoon-ah, you’re not going back to the sands again,” Yoongi said with a heavy sigh. “Not with that leg injury. You’re to be a teacher - to go back to the arena would be suicide. Doyun won't risk you.”

 

“But--”

 

“Master’s orders.”

 

“Yoongi, no.”

 

“It’s for your own safety and... well, I hate watching you out there. How do you think I’d feel knowing you were fighting while struggling with a leg injury?”

 

Namjoon sighed and tried to settle his mind, aware rest was necessary and that arguing over this matter would be too strenuous while he was in recovery. "Yah. Point made. So, how'd you convince him to let you stay down here?"

 

"Ah," Yoongi said with a smile. "That's a secret."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Thirty Three: Morning._

 

 

 

“You look miserable,” Taehyung said, sitting down beside Yoongi with a bright smile on his face. It was breakfast time in the Ludus and most people were just doing their own thing as usual.

 

“I am.”

 

“Yeah, same. I’m miserable too,” Taehyung replied, handing Yoongi a cup of water.

 

“You don’t look miserable. You look fucking joyful,” Yoongi said, raising an eyebrow at the gladiator.

 

“Sometimes it’s good to smile, even when life hurts,” Taehyung murmured, looking distant for a moment, clearly lost in his own thoughts. “I’m Taehyung. I’m new.”

 

“You don’t say.”

 

There was silence between them after that point. Taehyung tried to keep smiling but the more Yoongi looked at him, the more he saw the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry you got whipped.”

 

“Hey… it happens. I’m not upset,” Yoongi replied slowly, still trying to suss the boy out.

 

“You cried pretty hard,” Taehyung pointed out.

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

“Sensitive, huh? Abrasive but… sensitive?”

 

Yoongi scowled. Who did this kid think he was? A new gladiator acting like he knew and understood everything when he _clearly did not_.

 

“Got nothing to say to that, huh? I can see why Jiminie-hyung likes you so much.”

 

Well.

 

Maybe he knew some things?

 

“Jimin likes me?” Yoongi asked hesitantly, glancing across the room. The gladiator seemed to be in some sort of argument with Jungkook, but from what he had gathered that wasn't out of the ordinary.

 

Yoongi had felt completely out of place ever since he woke up. Namjoon had dumped a bowl of rice in front of him and told him to eat, but aside from that Yoongi had barely interacted with anyone. After his outburst with Jimin the previous night, the gladiator had kept his distance and now he was sitting with this strange, bubbly gladiator, who was perhaps more sad than he let on.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Taehyung replied, his gaze also fixated on Jimin and Jungkook.

 

“No?”

 

“Just… speak to him today, alright? Don’t push him away.”

 

“I don’t push people away,” Yoongi muttered, shoving his half-empty bowl of rice away from him.

 

“Yeah? Tell that to Namjoon-hyung.”

 

Wow, this boy was bold. Before Yoongi could reply, Taehyung swept both their bowls up and walked away to clean them. Who the fuck did he think he was?

 

 Gladiators. Yoongi couldn't stand them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Hour Thirty Six: Late Morning_

 

 

 

“Kim Taehyung, what did you say to Yoongi?” Jimin demanded the moment Namjoon paired him up with his friend for training. He tossed Taehyung a practice sword, and for the first time since they joined the Ludus, Taehyung effortlessly caught it, with no awkwardness or fumbling. Maybe there was hope for him in the arena after all.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Yoongi? You know, the slave who has been sulking in the shade all morning,” Jimin jerked his head in the direction of Yoongi, who was sitting under the balcony with his back against the building’s wall. “The one glaring at you?”

 

“Oh! Yoongi! Yeah, we just had a chat. I didn’t say much!” Taehyung said, using his wooden sword to block a blow that Jimin delivered swiftly and sharply. “Ever worry about splinters flying off the wood?”

 

“Don’t change the subject. You said something to him! He was already moody but look at him now!”

 

Taehyung glanced over at Yoongi, but before he could reply to Jimin, Namjoon walked out onto the balcony with Doyun by his side and called for everyone’s attention.

 

“Everyone gather below the balcony, we have an announcement,” Doyun barked, his words interrupting Namjoon's, and all the gladiators dropped their weapons and crowded together in the middle of the training ground to wait.

 

“After consulting with Master Doyun, we have decided on the order in which gladiators of the Kang Ludus will fight at the games, along with who your opponents will be,” Namjoon spoke confidently and clearly.

 

“Fuck, you kind of forget you have to fight, don’t you?” Taehyung said uneasily.

 

“Nah, I always remember,” Jimin replied, squaring his shoulders as he stared up at Namjoon and their Master. He wanted a good position, near the end of the matches, because the winners of those fights always won more money. “Gladiators can’t afford to forget their place in the world.”

 

“Yeah, that’s how they lose,” Jungkook piped up from behind them.

 

Taehyung looked over his shoulder and scowled at Jungkook, before turning his attention back to their Master and Doctore.

 

“Kim Taehyung. You will be the first gladiator to fight from this Ludus, and the match will be the third of the day,” Namjoon said loudly, as if to call the group's attention back to him.

 

Jimin hoped that Doyun was too lost in his own vanity to notice his gladiators whispering with one another.

 

“I’m grateful. People may mock you for having such a low ranking fight, but you’re way more likely to survive it. If you had been put near the end of the day you would have died,” Jimin said under his breath, reaching to take and squeeze Taehyung’s hand reassuringly.

 

“I’m glad you got an early fight too,” Jungkook murmured, causing Taehyung to tense up beside Jimin and grip onto his hand a little too tightly.

 

They stood and listened to the next fights, with each and every gladiator getting used for match after match. Some were single fights, some were pairs, and most people seemed comfortable with the decisions their Master had made.

 

“How does Namjoon remember all that?” Taehyung whispered.

 

“Doctore’s really smart. He can’t read, but he’s got a brilliant memory,” Jungkook replied, resting his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin knew about their fight from the previous day, and he hadn’t expected Jungkook to be so chatty or tactile with Taehyung after it, however he was glad to see it for Tae's sake.

 

“You can tell. The way he trains us and strategises… even the way he speaks… you can tell he’s really smart,” Jimin agreed with a nod.

 

“And now the Primus,” Namjoon called out.

 

Wait. Jimin realised that neither himself nor Jungkook had been given their ranking and opponents. Did that mean that one of them wouldn’t be used? Jimin would die of shame if their Master had overlooked him; even Taehyung had a fight, damn it!

  

“The Primus match, the most important of the day, will be fought by Jimin-”

 

“Yes!” Jimin breathed.

 

“-and Jungkook. It will be a paired fight against a gladiator who belongs…”

 

Jimin stopped listening to Namjoon and instead closed his eyes and took a deep, _deep_ breath. He and Jungkook would be paired up together? He’d need to share the glory? The winnings?

 

There was also the fact that Jungkook would never be a good partner for him. They weren’t exactly friendly and clashed over their weapon choices, fighting styles, strategic moves, and skill levels.

 

“If this is Namjoon’s idea of a joke...” Jungkook muttered, just loud enough for Jimin to overhear.

 

“If you have any queries about the arrangement, I will be on the field shortly. Dismissed,” Namjoon said, swiftly wrapping up the announcement.

 

“That means get back to training!” Doyun ordered from beside Namjoon, his tone much harsher and colder than the Doctore’s.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hour Forty One: Afternoon_

 

 

 

Yoongi noticed Jimin slip away from training about halfway through the afternoon session. Most gladiators were focusing on stamina or muscle building exercises and therefore it wasn’t necessary for Namjoon to keep track of everyone and pair them up.

 

Although Namjoon would hardly notice the training’s lack of Jimin, due to the fact he had been preoccupied for hours with Jungkook whining at him. Yoongi knew the brat had too much pride and wanted to face the opponent alone; he was probably too foolish to realise that a two-on-one fight meant neither Jimin nor Jungkook would be able to beat the rival by themselves.

 

Yoongi decided to slip inside, because he really wasn’t needed on the field – for a punishment, he was actually getting a day off his duties and he was secretly grateful.

 

“You thought nobody would notice your absence?” He called, when he saw Jimin sitting indoors alone.

 

“I’m good enough to be in the Primus, so I don’t need to train constantly,” Jimin replied moodily.

 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and walked towards Jimin, eventually sitting himself down in front of him. “Well we both know that’s not true. One missed training session could cost you your life.”

 

“You’re cheerful, hyung.”

 

“You’ve met me, haven’t you?” Yoongi said with a smirk. “Now… you need to stop pouting over Namjoon and Master’s decision. You and Jungkook will fight well together.”

 

“We hate each other.”

 

“No you don’t. Gladiators only pretend to hate each other due to the aggressive nature of their lives,” Yoongi said dryly, because he had seen this story time and time again: two gladiators at similar levels, both desperate for freedom, and both willing the other to fail so he could triumph. “You want to do better than him. You don’t hate him.”

 

“Since when do you know so much about gladiators?”

 

“I’ve lived in this Ludus for a long time. I was friends with the old Doctore, and used to fuck the current one.”

 

“You’re awful, you know that?” Jimin sniffed, reaching out to whack Yoongi’s knee playfully.

 

“Hey, don’t! I’m in recovery remember?” Yoongi protested, although the tap didn’t hurt at all.

 

“I know. Suffering such a harsh punishment… sitting sunbathing for hours while we gladiators sweat and bleed.”

 

“Not my fault our Master believes the worst in his gladiators. Thought I would be attacked down here, not cared for, cleaned up and bandaged.”

 

Yoongi smiled at Jimin as warmly as he could manage and he reached out to squeeze his shoulder, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I know I snapped at you. I get defensive about Namjoon… he really isn't as great as you think.”

 

“He’s not as bad as you think either!” Jimin protested.

 

“Let’s… not talk about that, alright?” Yoongi said, wanting to quickly change the subject; they had already had one argument over Namjoon and didn’t need another.

 

“Right. Okay. Well, what should we talk about then?” Jimin said, and Yoongi suddenly wished he knew more about the gladiator.

 

“Where are you from?” Yoongi asked, leaning in a little closer.

 

“Busan.”

 

“Do you miss it?”

 

“I miss the sea. I used to love swimming,” Jimin said, his expression almost wistful for a fleeting moment. “It’s stupid for slaves to daydream about their past lives… freedom is so far away.”

  
“At least you’ve got a chance at it. Your earnings will eventually build up,” Yoongi reminded Jimin, although as he spoke he remembered the book he had read in their Master’s office and the fact Jimin’s monetary sum had been reduced to nothing.

 

“I have quite a lot. I don’t think it’ll take me much longer earn my freedom, especially if I’m getting Primus fights already,” Jimin said happily.

 

Yoongi felt bad. He didn’t want to ruin Jimin’s happiness, especially because when the gladiator smiled, his entire face lit up and it was pure _sunshine_ … at least in Yoongi’s opinion.

 

“Jimin-ah.”

 

“Sorry, I know it is shit to rub in my earnings,” Jimin replied, his expression faltering, presumably because he realised that Yoongi didn’t have earnings built up, nor did he have a chance to save money.

 

“No, that’s not-” Yoongi began, before pausing and glancing down at his lap. “Jimin-ah, do you remember when I was being punished, Doyun announced he had caught me looking at the gladiatorial earnings book?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Well… I happened to see your page when I was flicking through,” Yoongi said, then he reached out and took Jimin’s hand, hoping it would be a comfort to him when he delivered the bad news. “Your old Master kept all your winnings. Nothing was transferred over to Doyun. You have no money saved.”

 

Jimin visibly stiffened and his eyes went wide. He looked confused for a moment, before his expression shifted to one of pure horror.

 

“No.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, this can’t happen. I need my winnings. I need to get free… I don’t- I don’t know how many more fights I will survive!” He exclaimed, his heart pounding erratically.

 

“Jimin, calm down.”

 

“I have to go speak to Namjoon,” Jimin said, standing up quickly. As Jimin began to walk by him, Yoongi reached out and caught his wrist.

 

“Jimin-ah, what can be done? If you go complain to Namjoon, he’ll chew your head off. If you complain to Doyun, he’ll whip you,” Yoongi said desperately, tightening his hold on Jimin’s wrist for a moment, as if afraid Jimin would run off and do something stupid.

 

There was a moment of silence between them. Then Jimin spoke up, “How many hours do you have left down here?”

 

“Ah… six or seven? Maybe eight? Doyun will come fetch me when I’m done,” Yoongi replied, confused that Jimin was asking him this.

 

“Well, let me offer you some advice… enjoy your six, seven, or eight hours of freedom before you have to return to your job. Because when you do, you’ll be stuck following Doyun’s orders for a _long_ time. Just like me,” Jimin hissed, pulling his hand from Yoongi’s grip.

 

Yoongi’s lips parted in shock, having never heard Jimin talk like this before. He stood up slowly and began to follow Jimin toward the exit. “Wait.”

 

“What?” Jimin demanded.

 

Yoongi took a step forward and pulled Jimin into his arms, wrapping them around the gladiator tightly.

 

“I’m sorry, Jiminie. I’m so sorry.”

 

Jimin stayed tense in his arms for a moment, but then he dropped his head onto Yoongi’s shoulder and began to sniffle. His arms looped around Yoongi’s waist, mindful of the still-fresh injuries across his back. They stayed like that for a while; holding each other in the quiet, empty living quarters, without saying anything else.

 

Eventually, Yoongi spoke up.

 

“You think I should enjoy my last few hours of freedom? Alright, I will... as long as you stay with me a while.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm so glad to be back posting again. Chapters will return to normal posting time now!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts!


	11. Red Stains on Porcelain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh I'm so so sorry it took me so long to update! I know I said start of May, but life just got hectic. 
> 
> But I'm BACK. And I'm excited to bring you a new chapter!!!
> 
> (Thank you to all who waited patiently and who commented encouraging things/kudo'd/bookmarked/etc! I get worried people don't really enjoy this so it's lovely to see people excited over it!)

 

Jimin was kneeling as calmly as possible in Kang Doyun’s study. He had been instructed by Seokjin to wait there quietly while their Master finished up entertaining a guest.

 

He bowed low out of respect when Doyun finally entered the room, nerves settling in his stomach as he had never interacted with his Master one-on-one.

 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Master,” Jimin said quietly, wishing he could shake the feeling of sickness which came from interacting with this man. He knew his request was brave and bold, especially after what had happened with Yoongi, but he had to have this conversation.

 

“Which one are you again?” Doyun’s voice was cold and clipped.

 

“Jimin, Master.”

 

“Oh yes. I have so many gladiators and I can never keep up, but you’re supposedly very good,” Doyun replied, sitting down on the cushioned chair at his low table. “At least that’s what Namjoon reports.”

 

For an owner of a Ludus, Doyun was remarkably out of touch with his gladiators. Jimin’s old Master always spent time on the training field and regularly assessed them all individually. He mused that Doyun must handle the administrative side while relying on Namjoon to report back any problems on the physical side. 

 

“Doctore is very kind. I feel privileged to be included in the Primus match,” Jimin said with a small smile, hoping that he was conveying his gratitude because that match was incredibly important to him. He would hate to displease Doyun and have himself demoted. 

 

“Yes, well apparently you and Jungkook are equally skilled,” Doyun said, drumming his fingers on the table for a moment. “Why the fuck is there no tea?”

 

“I- I don’t…”

 

“Yoongi!” Doyun shouted suddenly. “Useless boy; he’s been difficult ever since I brought him back upstairs. Tell me: were you all really _that_ cruel to him during his punishment?”

 

“Um.”

 

“Because I’d be pleased to hear that. He needed to learn a lesson.”

 

_Oh. Doyun is very out of touch_ , Jimin realised. He truly believed that the gladiators would have tormented Yoongi and hurt him further while he was in recovery. Aside from a few tense conversations and one very sweet one, Yoongi had hardly interacted with the gladiators during that forty eight hour period.

 

“Uh, yeah, we made him train with us,” Jimin lied as smoothly as he could. “Could barely hold a training sword.”

 

The door to the Master's study slid open as Jimin spoke and while Doyun prompted him to go on, Yoongi came into his line of sight.

 

“He definitely suffered downstairs with us,” Jimin said tightly, “Uh… right, Yoongi?”

 

Yoongi gave him a confused look, but he placed the tray down on the table and began to prepare Doyun’s tea.

 

“Don’t speak to him directly. He’s working,” Doyun chastised.

 

“I’m sorry, Master,” Jimin said quickly as he could. “I didn’t mean-”

 

“You’re still new to our Ludus. You don’t know our ways yet, nor have you memorised all my rules and preferences,” Doyun said, interrupting Jimin while holding a hand up.

 

Jimin’s expression softened and he bowed his head, “Thank you, Master.” He had always assumed Doyun was needlessly cruel, given how he treated Yoongi, but thus far he had been quite kind and Jimin felt like he could comfortably ask him his question.

 

“May I ask… I hate to bring up that incident, but- but I heard I don’t have any winnings? My account has been drained?”

 

Yoongi began to cough and Jimin glanced up at him apologetically. He didn’t want to get Yoongi into any more trouble, but he _had_ to know the answer.

 

“So you’ve been loose lipped along with sneaky?” Doyun demanded, rounding on Yoongi, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

 

“Master, I-”

 

“It was my fault! I asked him what was in the book, if he saw my account!” Jimin interrupted quickly. “I roughed him up, demanded to know, pinned him down and choked him until he told me.”

 

Bullshit. It was utter bullshit. But Doyun didn’t know that and it was becoming increasingly obvious that Doyun believed his gladiators were wild, bloodthirsty animals. He didn’t seem to understand that they could truly care about each other. Doyun also clearly wanted to hear that Yoongi was injured further downstairs, so Jimin knew he wouldn’t be punished for this 'story.'

 

“Right, Yoongi?”

 

Yoongi nodded his head once and he bowed his head, “Forgive me, Master. I didn’t mean to speak about what I saw.”

 

Doyun looked unimpressed and he stayed silent for several moments, before he nodded his head, “Yoongi, you’re dismissed.”

 

“Master Doyun, Jimin-”

 

The tone of Yoongi’s voice, combined with the concern which was etched on his face made Jimin worry that the slave was perhaps ready to tell the truth or attempt to get Jimin out of a punishment.

 

“Yoongi. Leave.”

 

With one last look at Jimin, Yoongi walked out the room and slid the door shut behind him.

 

Doyun picked up his cup of tea and drank it slowly, his gaze never leaving Jimin.

 

“You want to know about your winnings, huh?” Doyun spoke eventually, then he took another sip. Then another.

 

“Yes, Master. I do,” Jimin said, feeling dread and unease now that he was alone with Doyun again. His Master looked so blank and unimpressed, although he appeared neither angry nor irritated with Jimin’s questioning.

 

“Your old Master. It’s his fault,” Doyun said simply.

 

“How… so?”

 

“When he lost his money and Ludus, he became a desperate man. He sold off his slaves but kept their earnings for himself. Skipped town.”

 

“What?” Jimin said, his heart rate quickening at this final confirmation that his money was gone forever. “Why didn’t you demand our money be transferred?”

 

“You don’t think I tried?” Doyun said, his tone turning irritable. “You don’t think I’d do the best for my gladiators?”

 

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean-”

 

“Enough. I have grown tired of this conversation. Leave,” Doyun ordered.

 

Jimin opened his mouth as if to respond, but he knew better than to try and argue his case. He stiffly nodded before standing and bowing, and then he quickly left the room. Once the doors were slid closed, he aimed a kick at a plant pot and cursed as pain blossomed on the ball of his foot.

 

“May I ask why you’re trying to break my plant pot?”

 

Jimin turned round quickly and tensed when he saw his Mistress standing before him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

 

“Mistress Seonhui… I’m sorry. Forgive me,” Jimin replied quickly, bowing deeply.

 

“Perhaps I should ask you to kick it again. And again. Until the porcelain breaks and embeds in your foot,” she said, regarding Jimin’s lack of footwear.

 

“Mistress, no please. That would... that would impact my fighting,” he breathed, suddenly wondering whether Doyun was the lesser of two evils here.

 

“Kick the plant pot.”

 

“Please.”

 

“Now, slave.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jungkook was getting fresh water from the storage area when he heard footsteps as people descended the staircase from the house. Moments later the gate creaked open and Jimin stumbled through.

 

“Mistress Seonhui is awful, did you know that?” Jimin said grumpily as the gate slammed shut behind him.

 

“You didn’t know that?” Jungkook replied snarkily.

 

“She… she fucking-”

 

It was only then that Jungkook looked at Jimin and saw his foot was bandaged. “Fuck, what happened to you?”

 

“She decided that her white porcelain plant pots needed stained red.”

 

“What?”  Jungkook said, with a confused frown.

 

“Made me kick a plant pot until I bled all over it.”

 

“She what? Why?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. All I’m concerned about is I can’t train like this and the event is so fucking soon,” Jimin replied, making a little noise of distress.

 

“Yeah, you’re right. We need to train to fight side by side and we can’t do that while you’re limping like that,” Jungkook said bitterly. He knew that from now until the match, they would need to channel their energy into becoming a cohesive team. “Maybe we should… ha, try becoming friends.”

 

“Try… becoming… friends?” Jimin questioned.

 

“Well for the next few days, we can’t work on our physical bond. So we’ve gotta work on something… may as well make it our mental bond.”

 

“You want to become friends? To build a mental bond?” Jimin said and he couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke. The thought was just... ridiculous.

 

“You’re laughing but I’m serious. You think we should go into the arena without forming a bond? Without learning to move fluidly together? You want to die?” Jungkook said firmly, taking Jimin’s arm. “You don’t like me. I don’t like you. But I bet we can form a bond somehow.”

 

“Oh yeah? You think it’s that easy? Name one thing we’ve got in common,” Jimin challenged with a smirk.

 

“Taehyung.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Over the next week, Taehyung kept his distance from Jungkook and found himself growing increasingly frustrated due to the fact Jimin, of all people, was spending most of his time with him. He hardly got to speak to his best friend, which made him feel stressed, hurt, and lonely.

 

It seemed Namjoon picked up on it one night when Taehyung was sulking under the balcony, watching Jungkook and Jimin practise their movements. They were suddenly fluid; treating it more as a dance, working together in a way that was both mesmerising and sinister.

 

“They’re going to put on a great show,” Namjoon said proudly.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Five days until the games, do you feel ready?” Namjoon asked Taehyung, sensing the boy needed to talk even if he didn’t particularly want to.

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Taehyung muttered in response, resting his chin on his knees which were drawn up to his chest.

 

“You will be wonderful. Believe me. I’ve watched you train – watched you flourish! Taehyung, you’re turning into a confident gladiator and I believe you’ll find this match far too easy. You’re up first, so you’ll be our first win.”

 

“Yeah, well maybe I’ll mess up on the day,” Taehyung replied, his gaze never leaving Jungkook, watching every twist and turn of the gladiator’s body.

 

“I don’t think you will. Believe me, Tae, you’re stronger than you believe you are. You’re a fighter, you’ll survive,” Namjoon said, dropping his hand onto Taehyung’s shoulder to squeeze it.

 

“Is Jimin’s foot still sore?” Taehyung suddenly asked. “He still wears a bandage.”

 

“He won’t admit it. If he feels pain, he’ll fight through it.”

 

“I wish I could be like him,” Taehyung said quietly.

 

“You feel pain? Have you been injured in practice?”

 

Taehyung shook his head and sighed, pressing his forehead to his knees and closing his eyes.

 

Namjoon was silent for a moment, before he sighed, “Which one do you love? Jungkook or Jimin?”

 

Taehyung inhaled deeply, before breathing out his answer: “Jungkook.”

 

“I believe you’ve been fighting long enough with him. Hey, why don't you take two cups of water over? Tell them Doctore orders them to take a break… that they’ve been working themselves too hard and will pass out if they don’t stop.”

 

“But I-”

 

“Doctore’s orders. Take the water over to them.”

 

And with that, Namjoon slipped back inside the Ludus.

 

Taehyung sighed and lifted the jug and carefully poured water into two separate cups. He grasped them firmly as he stood up and slowly (hesitantly) approached the pair.

 

“Doctore wants you to rest. Training finished hours ago,” Taehyung said quietly, holding out the two cups. “He ordered it.”

 

Jimin took one look at Jungkook, then he dropped to the ground and sat crossed legged, reaching out to take the cup from Taehyung’s hand. Jungkook soon joined him, sitting on the now-cold sand.

 

“Thank you, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, taking his own cup from Taehyung.

 

Just as Taehyung turned to leave, he heard two voices pipe up:

 

“Wait! Stay!”

 

“Sit down with us!”

 

He turned back around and saw nothing but smiles from the two gladiators. Jungkook’s gaze was almost pleading and Taehyung suddenly felt guilty – he had been mad at Jungkook for so long after initially growing close to him. With good reason but… Jungkook was shy, shyer than he let on, and he clearly relies on people he becomes attached to.

 

Taehyung sank down onto the ground and swiped Jimin’s cup from his hand, taking a small sip himself, “Since when are you both so friendly?” He asked, wanting to break the ice. “Dare I ask… is the feud over?”

 

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief and he ducked his head. “Yeah. He’s not so bad.”

 

Jimin looked at Jungkook for a long moment and then smiled widely, his eyes turning into crescents. “No more feud?”

 

Jungkook nodded once, “No more feud. Tae… no more feud?”

 

Taehyung looked at them both and grinned. “Never was a feud with us. Just an oversensitive ex-free person and a gladiator who was telling the truth.”

 

“A gladiator who speaks without thinking, you mean?” Jungkook pointed out.

 

“Yeah that definitely sounds like you,” Jimin piped up, nudging Jungkook with his elbow before taking his cup back from Taehyung.

 

“Oh shut up Jimin, I wish Namjoon was around to make you my personal slave again,” Jungkook snapped, though he was smiling, looking more like a mischievous young man than a cold and shut off gladiator.

 

Taehyung dissolved into giggles and he leaned against Jimin. “Feud still over?” He asked his friend.

 

Jimin fell silent. Then he dipped his fingers in the cup and flicked water at Jungkook.

 

“Oh yes. Feud over, friendship beginning.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH Maknae line forming finally.
> 
> Next chapter we finally get to the games! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought, and thank you again for being so patient!!


	12. I Don't Want To Do This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii... So I've not been keeping to my update schedule. I think I should be less ambitious and say that for a wee while, the schedule is suspended! But I hope I'll get back on track soon.
> 
> Today I have a nice LONG chapter for you. Finally it's time for the GLADIATOR GAMES.

 

 

“I don’t want to do this,” Taehyung moaned, lifting his sword slowly and unsteadily.

 

“Taehyung. You must.”

 

“Tae. It’s fine, it’s us… we can take it,” Jungkook said, attempting to make his voice as warm as possible.

 

“We’ll hurt you,” Taehyung countered.

 

Jimin and Jungkook were currently encircled by every member of the Ludus; new, seasoned, old, young - the gladiators were all there brandishing their respective weapons of choice.

 

Jimin exhaled slowly and began to speak in a gentle tone which mirrored Jungkook's: “That’s the whole point of this exercise. You attack, use your various fighting styles, and if we can fend you all off, then we’ll-”

 

“Fuck up our opponent tomorrow,” Jungkook interrupted, causing Jimin to roll his eyes.

 

“Perhaps in a less arrogant manner… but yes. Fuck up our opponent,” Jimin said to Taehyung, casting Jungkook a look to show him he wasn’t exactly entertained by his comment.

 

“Enough. Begin,” Namjoon interrupted in that manner Jimin had come to know as mild exasperation, quiet fondness, and stress over having to keep people such as him and Jungkook in line.

 

And with that the fake fight began.

 

Jungkook and Jimin worked in a perfectly synchronised manner. They ducked, they jumped, they rolled over and under each other, threw weapons at each other when they were needed, and blocked hits that the other didn’t see coming.

 

It was an intense fight as they were completely outnumbered, and one they knew they would most likely lose. But this was an exercise of endurance and stamina. They were supposed to ache, they were supposed to sweat, and the more men they beat, the better.

 

Jimin spun round when he heard a thud, followed by a gasp and he began to laugh when he spotted Jungkook laying face-up on the ground, while Taehyung straddled him and held a practice sword against his neck.

 

“Shit, did you just… lose against Taehyung?” Jimin asked, his laughter growing stronger as he studied the scene before him. He had taken his eyes off Jungkook for a brief moment while fighting two gladiators at once and in that time, his dongsaeng had somehow been kicked to the ground, overpowered, and pinned down by one of the least talented members of their group. “Either you really didn’t want to fight back or he’s been hiding some talent from us.”

 

“I was using full strength,” Jungkook protested, but found his mouth gently covered by Taehyung’s hand.

 

“I wanted him to be caught off guard. I wanted him to know that anything could happen on those sands and that he is _not_ infallible.”

 

Before Jimin could reply, a pair of hands grabbed his own arms and tugged them behind his back, using the rope of a fishing net to bind them together. Another pair began to shove at his shoulders, forcing him to drop to his knees, while a third covered his mouth with one hand and held a weapon to his neck.

 

“Jimin-ah, don’t you dare get distracted on the field,” Namjoon spoke up, appearing in Jimin’s line of sight. “And Jungkook… never, ever underestimate your opponent.  No matter who you go up against, regardless of their size or appearance, they could overpower you. Taehyung is right. You are not infallible.”

 

“I want you back to me alive,” Taehyung said firmly, sliding his hand up from Jungkook’s mouth to his hair. “You hear me? I want you back alive.”

 

“Yes, Taehyung. I promise I will,” Jungkook whispered, his eyes wide as he stared up at the gladiator who had played timid during their initial fight.

 

“You too, Jimin-hyung,” Taehyung said,  looking a little lost in thought as he gazed down at Jungkook, but after a moment he broke eye contact and rolled off him. “Maybe untie him now?”

 

“Hm. Do you really think he’s learned his lesson?” A new voice spoke up.

 

Jimin couldn’t see behind him, as his head was forced into one position, but from the tone and the look on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces, he could tell who it was.

 

“Master Doyun… what brings you to the field?” Namjoon asked slowly, and Jimin saw him edge a little closer to Taehyung.

 

Doyun walked to the centre of the fray. The day was incredibly hot and he had two slaves following him: Yoongi with a fan and a woman Jimin didn’t recognise with a Jiwusan to shield their master from the sun’s rays.

 

“A little announcement. A small change to tomorrow’s event schedule.”

 

“Oh? You didn’t… mention this to me?” Namjoon questioned.

 

“I don’t have to, Doctore. I’m your Dominus, your Master. Don’t forget your place,” Doyun scolded and Jimin couldn’t help but notice the little cough which came from the fan-bearer, a cough which no doubt was to mask a laugh. Oh Yoongi.

 

“I’m sorry. Of course, Master Doyun,” Namjoon replied quickly, accompanying his apology with a little bow.

 

Doyun sniffed and turned his attention to Jimin. “You. Congratulations, you get your own fight after all.”

 

“Wha-What?” Jimin stuttered. The Primus alone? “Master, I would rather share the Primus with Jungkook… we have trained for a duel match and I do not think it’s wise to take him off the-”

 

“Oh Jungkook is still doing the Primus. You are not.”

 

“What?”

 

“Jimin, don’t argue,” Namjoon warned.

 

“There was a last minute addition from another Ludus. I volunteered you to fight against the gladiator in the second quarter.”

 

“Second… second quarter?” Jimin said, his face paling drastically. Winning a fight in the second quarter would barely give him any earnings. It was levels below the Primus.

 

“Master, Jimin is delighted you thought of him to fight in such a special match. He will make you proud, whether you choose to place him in the second quarter or the Primus, or even first match. Right, Jimin?” Namjoon said, sounding so stressed that Jimin was able to snap out of his headspace and force himself to smile.

 

“Of… of course Master. Thank you for this honour,” he said, bowing deeply, mimicking an act of thanks.

 

“Continue practicing now. Make sure Jungkook is ready for this match _alone_ ,” Doyun ordered. With that, he left the grounds swiftly and with an uncaring expression.

 

“Everyone take a breather,” Namjoon finally said, interrupting the stunned silence. “Jimin… follow me. We should talk.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Are you ready to face the Primus on your own?” Taehyung asked softly, kneeling down in front of Jungkook while the boy scrubbed his skin raw.

 

Jungkook did not answer.

 

“Careful… stop scrubbing so hard, Kook. You don’t want to bleed tonight… your blood is more useful inside you because tomorrow-”

 

“You mean my skin will be sliced open? My blood spilled across the sands? You mean my chances will-”

 

“No. Stop. Don’t you dare start, Jeon Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupted him before he could continue to take his thoughts in that direction.

 

“But it’s true. This man is impossible to beat. That’s why they needed two of us!” Jungkook argued.

 

“You’ll be fine. You’re talented enough.”

 

“You beat me today!”

 

“Only because you like me too much to fight me properly!”

 

“You had me pinned to the floor, Taehyung. I’m better than that.”

 

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, and then leaned in towards Jungkook slowly, “You were distracted. As long as you don’t think of me, you’ll win.”

 

“I’m… sorry?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Jungkook stopped cleaning himself and tightened his grip on the cloth. “I… do.”

 

“And you feel what I feel?” Taehyung pressed, reaching over to remove the material from Jungkook’s hands. He gently placed it on the ground beside him without breaking eye contact.

 

“I do,” Jungkook replied, nervously licking his lips. “I do, Taehyung.”

 

“Good.”

 

The moment felt like it would never end. They realised that they had practically closed the distance between them, now sitting close enough to feel the other’s breath on their skin. Taehyung was dry, having only entered the wash area to keep his friend company, but Jungkook’s skin was damp, with droplets of water rolling down his chest.

 

Jungkook suddenly felt hyperaware of his state of undress. Gladiators were used to being nude around each other – they only had communal areas to live after all, and they bathed in a separate, but open room using cloths and buckets of cold water. It wasn’t uncommon for a gladiator to be nude, while another was dressed (especially as said dress, the subligacula, was almost as revealing) but right now, he felt very exposed. 

 

“It probably… it isn’t good,” Jungkook said, after taking a deep breath and breaking their eye contact. “There’s rules against it.”

 

“Since when do you play by the rules?” Taehyung replied, leaning in closer to Jungkook. His hand touched Jungkook’s jawline and he gently lifted his chin.

 

“I try my best.”

 

“Jungkook-ah. You lived in poverty. Then you were condemned as a criminal. Then enslaved. You’ve not really had a chance to enjoy anything… you’ve never tasted the finer things in life.”

 

“I’ve tasted blood. I like my role in society.”

 

“There’s more to life than the arena,” Taehyung reminded him softly.

 

Jungkook knew he was right. Of course he did. The arena was a cruel place and being fated to fight until death was no way to live. Living and eating the bare minimum to survive, having to clean from a bucket instead of a real bath, and being denied the chance at love… it was all horrible. And then there was always the threat of punishment for disobedience which loomed above all their heads.

 

“You’re right,” Jungkook whispered as he leaned in closer to Taehyung, “You’re right. To hell with the rules.”

 

He closed the distance and pressed their lips together. At first it was soft, hesitant and gentle, but once they relaxed things began to heat up. Taehyung’s fingers found the tie which held Jungkook’s hair in a bun and he ripped it off, allowing his hair to fall past his shoulders. He gripped his hair tightly as he kissed him, which caused Jungkook to moan every time his hair was tugged _just right_.

 

Jungkook climbed up onto Taehyung’s lap without breaking their kiss, straddling him with the intention of grinding down against him. He wrapped his arms around Taehyung to steady himself, and Tae’s free hand dropped down to his ass to start grasping at it firmly.

 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Jungkook breathed, dipping his head down to start nibbling and sucking on Taehyung’s neck. While he did this, he suddenly found himself being pushed slowly until his back hit the ground. Taehyung climbed on top of him and leaned down to continue their kiss.

 

Jungkook reached up to cup Taehyung’s face, but soon found his wrists were grabbed and pinned above his head.

 

“Tae?” Jungkook breathed, curious about the sudden change of position, (although he found he didn’t mind it so much.)

 

“Don’t. Let. Your. Guard. Down.”

 

Taehyung’s expression was playful, but Jungkook could tell there was a sternness behind the words he spoke.

 

“What?”

 

“Tomorrow. Don’t think about me. Don’t let yourself get distracted. That’s twice I’ve pinned you to the ground in one day, Jungkook-ah. Let’s not go for a third.”

 

“What if I want you to pin me down?” Jungkook replied cockily.

 

Taehyung gripped his chin suddenly and made him look up. “I don’t want you to die tomorrow. You’re too important. So please don’t get distracted… and come home to me.”

 

He softened his touch and leaned down to kiss Jungkook gently.

 

“Okay? Come home,” Taehyung ordered quietly against his lips, and Jungkook couldn’t help but nod ever so slightly.

 

In the past it was get money from the arena or die trying. Now he had a real reason to survive.

 

“Yes, Tae.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You guys fucked?” Jimin gasped as they got themselves ready in the area below the arena stands.

 

“Shut up! Lower your voice, pabo!!" Taehyung said quickly, clamping a hand over Jimin’s mouth.

 

Jimin tugged Taehyung’s hand away and smirked at him, “Well, it was about time really. I just can’t believe you’d exert your energy like that before the games.”

 

“It wasn’t… we just…”

 

“Kim Taehyung!”

 

Both Jimin and Taehyung turned around quickly, their heart rate speeding up at the thought of being overheard, but they found it was just Namjoon standing at the gate which was held ajar by a guard.

 

“Taehyung, you’re up first remember. Finish getting ready, grab your weapon, and go.”

 

Jimin’s irritation about not being in the Primus, Taehyung’s fear for Jungkook, and their desire to sit and chat about their personal lives all melted away because Namjoon’s words reminded them of one thing: today they fight.

 

All of them.

 

Taehyung finished lacing up his sandals and grabbed the sword that Namjoon advised he should use. He nodded his head at Jimin and looked across the room to where Jungkook was sitting, completely isolated and deep in thought.

 

“Go over to him,” Jimin whispered, once he saw where Taehyung’s gaze had landed.

 

“He doesn’t like to be disturbed before the arena. He told me himself last night… made me promise not to get offended if he doesn’t talk to me before my fight,” Taehyung said, attempting to muster up a brave smile. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. We said all we needed to say yesterday.”

 

And with that, Taehyung walked over to the gate to join Namjoon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

All things considered, Taehyung’s fight went by quite quickly. He kept a level head, didn’t let himself get stressed out or distracted, and he left the arena a winner; shaken, covered in blood, but a winner all the same.

 

Namjoon was incredibly proud of his first gladiator and he hugged him tightly when he walked back into the waiting area, bloody mess be damned.

 

“You survived!” Jimin said happily.

 

“I did,” Taehyung replied, his expression dazed.

 

Namjoon left the pair to talk, reminding Jimin that he would be up after the next fight, and he walked over to Jungkook. He didn’t say a word; he knew what Jungkook was like before his matches, but he squeezed his shoulder supportively. They sat in silence for a while, waiting for the fight between two gladiators from other centres to be over.

 

And then it was Jimin’s turn.

 

“You can’t tell me you’re not curious to watch,” Namjoon said, nudging Jungkook gently to get his attention.

 

Jungkook just gave him a blank look in response, and returned to his earlier position – leaning against the wall, head bowed.

 

“Aish,” Namjoon sighed, before making his way over to Jimin. “You’ll do great. You know that, right? You’re much better than this level… your opponent doesn’t stand a chance.”

 

“Doctore, never let me become lazy, never let me take things for granted, nothing in life is certain,” Jimin replied with a smirk. “Don’t teach complacency to Master Doyun's gladiators.”

 

“Alright, alright, enough backtalk. Go fight,” Namjoon said, rolling his eyes in response to Jimin’s mock-chiding. “Don’t die.”

 

“I’ll try not to, hyung!” Jimin chirped, and with that, he practically rushed through the gates to get to the sands.

 

“He likes this too much, doesn’t he?” Taehyung said suddenly to Namjoon, who turned round and nodded at his dongsaeng.

 

“Yes. I worry for him sometimes,” Namjoon said, trying not to cringe when he saw the size difference between Jimin and his opponent. Jimin was shorter than the average gladiator, but he was strong, fast, and agile. His opponent towered above him; looked taller than any of the others in their Ludus.

 

“You said this was an easy fight?” Taehyung said uneasily.

 

“He must have not much going for him other than his height,” Namjoon replied, although his words were spoken slow and nervously, as if he were trying to reassure himself too. “It’s still near the start of the games. This can’t be an impressive match.”

 

And sure enough, it wasn’t.

 

Well, Jimin was impressive, but it was clear that his opponent was nowhere near his level.

 

The tall man was tall and strong, yet very clumsy and he clearly couldn’t keep up with Jimin’s rapidly paced movements. Namjoon’s anxiety began to melt away as he saw Jimin twirl around the man, somehow looking graceful on the sands which were usually so brutish and rough. His actions were almost like a dance and Namjoon was mesmerised.

 

“This is the first time I’ve seen him fight properly. This isn’t a practice… he’s great,” Namjoon said to Taehyung, sounding like a proud doctore.

 

“I was worried he’d die when I befriended him. Then I remembered that looks can be deceiving… yes he looks soft and sweet, but he’s a vicious fighter. He strikes like a serpent – precise, yet fluid.”

 

“Indeed. I’m sad I didn’t get to share the sands with him,” Jungkook spoke up, and Namjoon realised that the boy had moved to stand behind them at some point during the fight.

 

“You wanted him dead not too long ago,” Namjoon reminded him.

 

“Not dead… just…”

 

Namjoon caught the worried look Jungkook was giving Taehyung – clearly nervous about saying the wrong thing. “Yes?”

 

“Just… to be less than me. I don’t want to share money or glory.”

 

“Well today you won’t. You’ve got the sands alone soon,” Namjoon said, placing his hand on Jungkook’s upper arm. “Let this be a lesson for you that pride clouds your judgment… having a partner on the field would help, right? He’d be a blessing, not a curse.”

 

“Right.”

 

Namjoon whistled when he saw Jimin’s blade slice through the man’s neck, “Certainly a blessing. He’s brought our second win.”

 

“An easy win.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

While Jimin’s win was easy, the rest of the gladiators struggled. One barely lasted five minutes, another put up a good fight but was eventually stabbed to death, and the third was pinned to the ground, pleaded for mercy, but was killed regardless.

 

And then it was Jungkook’s time.

 

Namjoon had briefed Jungkook on rival, who only went by the name ‘the Monster’ due to his size, strength, and general aura which incited fear in his opponents.

 

The Monster was even bigger in person. Perhaps not as tall as Jimin’s opponent, but definitely more muscled.

 

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel nervous.

 

An officiant beat the drum which signalled the start of the fight, and before he could even move to an offense position, the Monster began his attack.

 

Their swords clanked as they met and Jungkook made sure to change his stance, knowing the one he was in would not be able to bear the weight of the blows. He regretted the fact it was just him in the arena now more than ever.

 

“Why did Master do this to me?” Jungkook said under his breath, spinning away from a stroke quickly. He managed to land a blow on the man’s shoulder but due to his armour, it barely made an impact.

 

“Fuck, fuck.”

 

Jungkook usually had more confidence than this.

 

His eyes quickly found the gate which led to the waiting area for gladiators, and he saw Taehyung’s face pressed up against the bars. Part of him wanted to go over and reassure him, but now wasn’t the time.

 

“Do not get distracted, Jeon,” he muttered to himself, but he spoke too soon.

 

Jungkook howled when the hwando cut into his shoulder. He stumbled, off balance because of the pain, and his opponent took the opportunity to kick him to the ground.

 

His back slammed onto the sands and he wheezed, trying to reclaim his breath although he soon choked in dust and coughed harder.

 

The moment Jungkook managed to stand up again, the Monster’s hand was around his neck and he was lifted up off the ground.

 

“Fuck, _stop,”_ he choked out, clawing at the man’s arm in the hopes he would be dropped.

 

But instead of dropping him gently, the man slammed his body on the ground. Jungkook grunted upon the impact; his head pounded, sharp aches rushed through his body, and his ears began to ring.

 

And his eyes opened just in time to see a glint of metal coming toward his neck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii so you guys STILL don't know the fate of poor Jungkookie. Promise it'll be in the next chapter!!!
> 
> I'm a little self conscious about this chapter honestly. I'm not a fan of writing action scenes so I don't think I did super well... hopefully it's not too bad though??? Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Translations :
> 
> Pabo - Idiot  
> Jiwusan - Korean paper umbrella


	13. An Uncommon Result

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, I'm so so so so sorry it's taken me this long to get the chapter out.
> 
> This is one I've been very excited about but there was just a section in the middle which took me a long time to write... but look! It's here!!

 

Alive. Jungkook was still alive.

 

After careful consideration, the magistrate curled his hand into a fist and angle his thumb up toward the sky signalling that the poor defeated gladiator may live another day.

 

Namjoon exhaled sharply and felt tears pricking in his eyes. “It’s… uncommon they allow both men to leave the Primus alive,” he explained to Jimin and Taehyung, allowing them to know what thoughts had been rushing through his mind during the last few moments. He had been trying to remain calm for Taehyung’s sake, but Jungkook had been already killed in his mind.

 

They watched as guards hauled Jungkook’s barely conscious body up and started to stomp to the gate. The metal creaked and Jungkook was tossed inside, only to be caught by Jimin and Taehyung.

 

“No! What the hell?! He’s injured! They… they can’t just throw him around like that,” Taehyung protested, sinking down to his knees so he could lower Jungkook to the ground to rest properly.

 

“I’d rather he was tossed around like a ragdoll and alive, than dead and tossed in the pile of bodies for burning.”

 

“Jimin!”

 

“It’s true!” Namjoon piped up. “He’ll survive these injuries. He’s been given a second chance.”

 

“He damn well better use it,” Jimin muttered, finding himself hoping that Jungkook would be able to free both himself and Taehyung. Even having lost a match, Jungkook was still a better fighter than Jimin and he was starting to get comfortable admitting that to himself.

 

“Yeah. He better,” Taehyung echoed, resting his hand on Jungkook’s forehead to feel his temperature. “He’s too warm. We need to get him home.”

 

 "He's losing blood too. We'll go now. We have healers who can help... they've saved worse," Namjoon said, helping Taehyung lift Jungkook, both of them careful and gentle. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What a thrill! A wonderful match!” Seonhui cheered, waving her hand in the general direction of Minji so the slave would fan her faster. It was hot, too hot, and she could barely handle the heat. 

 

“What a humiliation!” Doyun snapped in response. He held up his wine cup to indicate he needed it refilled, and Yoongi rushed to his side, feeling delighted when spare droplets splashed his skin and cooled him down.

 

“Your slave lives! We have not lost our best gladiator!” Seonhui said quickly, wanting to placate her husband.

 

“My slave will now be a goddamn laughing stock. I just… I shouldn’t have removed Jimin from that match.”

 

“Stubborn Kang Doyun admits he’s wrong?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Shut up.”

 

The words weren’t playfully spoken; they were a cold command which dripped from scowling lips.

 

Seonhui fell silent and she drummed her fingers on the rim of her cup. “Jimin fought well in his match. He brought honour to our Ludus. Just remember, you have him while Jungkook heals.”

 

“I told you to shut up, Seonhui,” Doyun repeated sharply, rising to his feet. “Come. We should return home. I’ll have guards escort our gladiators back… but I’d rather be home. No sense waiting on scum. I want to eat, get drunk, and have lips wrapped around my cock.”

 

Grim. The conversation between them was grim, their relationship was grim, and their sex life was, indeed, grim. Minji and Yoongi shared a look of utter frustration and dropped their gazes when their Masters stood up and turned to face them.

 

“Minji, go to Namjoon and make sure he collects my winnings. Then meet us outside the arena… the south entrance. We’ll leave from there.”

 

“I- Yes, Master.”

 

Yoongi placed the jug of wine on the table between Doyun and Seonhui’s seats, and he exhaled slowly out of sheer relief; the last thing he wanted to do right now was see Namjoon so he was happy to stay and attend to his Master.

 

But visiting him would have taken him closer to Jimin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“He’s still unconscious, isn’t he?” Namjoon asked as he approached Seokjin, who up until now had been draping cool cloth after cool cloth on Jungkook’s head.

 

For the first time since Namjoon himself, one of the gladiators was allowed to be treated in an empty room in the upstairs living space. When one was near death, they were granted a reprieve and time away from the filthy living quarters they usually frequented.  

 

Namjoon had been waiting outside the room for word about Jungkook’s condition; he couldn’t help but wonder if his stomach would ever feel settled again. He had never been so badly affected by a fight before, even the one which had cost him his status as a gladiator.

 

“He’s unconscious,” Seokjin confirmed, bowing at Namjoon as he walked by. He had a basket in his arms which was full of bloodied cloths and his hands were stained red.

 

Namjoon reached out and grabbed Seokjin’s elbow, stopping him in his tracks. “He will live though?”

 

“Yes. I promise. He’s breathing steadily. His wounds are not as severe as they looked. I think you should go report all this to your men downstairs… especially Taehyung, he looked particularly devastated when he returned home.”

 

“I’m glad Jungkook is upstairs where it is clean and he can be tended to by servants and slaves… but I know his family miss him downstairs,” Namjoon said quietly, “They want him home as soon as he is able.”

 

“I know. And I will send word the moment he is.”

 

“Thank you, Jagiya,” Namjoon said, his eyes flitting around to make sure there was nobody in sight, before he dared to lean in and place a kiss on Seokjin’s cheek.

 

Unfortunately, in that moment a door slid open.

 

“Isn’t it bad enough that you fuck practically under Master’s nose?”

 

“Yoongi.”

 

“And now you’re acting like this out in the open? Where anyone can catch you?  You fools,” Yoongi added, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the pair. “Stick to your baths.”

 

“Hyung,” Namjoon began.

 

“Don’t call me hyung. You should be tending to your wounded downstairs, Namjoon. And Seokjin? Go fucking help Jungkook,” Yoongi hissed, reaching to take the basket of waste from Seokjin’s hands. “Go inside that room and help him.”

 

“Who do you think you are, Yoongi-ssi? I have authority and seniority over you. You do not give me orders,” Seokjin replied, his voice suddenly sharp.

 

“I’m doing you a fucking favour. Go back inside before anyone important appears.”

 

Yoongi pulled the basket to his chest and turned to stalk off, muttering under his breath about selfish love-sick assholes.

 

“I think you should do as he says,” Namjoon said, sliding his hand up to squeeze Seokjin’s shoulder. “Meet me when the moon is high and shining. We can bathe together than and talk. The sun has been too hot today... I need cool water.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Taehyung. Eat.”

 

Jimin placed a bowl of rice down in front of his friend and then tapped him with the end of the chopsticks he was holding.

 

“I don’t wanna.”

 

“Taehyung, you are recovering from your fight. You lost blood, you’ll be weak, eat,” Jimin repeated, pressing the chopsticks into Taehyung’s hand.

 

“Jungkook.”

 

“Tae… he’ll be okay. Namjoon said as much. He just has longer recovery than the rest of us,” Jimin explained, his voice gentle as he tried to coax Taehyung out of his shocked state.

 

“He was nearly-”

 

“I know. It didn’t happen.”

 

“But it nearly did!”

 

“Open your mouth,” Jimin eventually sighed, taking the chopsticks back off of Taehyung. He picked up a clump of rice and held it to Taehyung’s lips. “One of us has to make sure you’re eating.”

 

Taehyung obediently opened his mouth and let Jimin pop the rice in. He chewed slowly, a frown etched on his face, and when he swallowed he simply opened his lips again.

 

“Well it’s better than nothing,” Jimin said and he continued to feed Taehyung until every grain was gone.

 

“I won’t be able to sleep until he comes back,” Taehyung said, after a brief period where no words were passed between them.

 

“I know you think that… but your body needs to recover, Tae. You’ll be pulled into a deep sleep before you know it,” Jimin reassured him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Let your food settle.”

 

“I want him here.”

 

“I know you do. Me too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I want to forget about today. I want to forget, Seokjin-hyung, please,” Namjoon said, pulling his lover as close as he could while water splashed around them. They were both naked and partially submerged in the bath.

 

Seokjin looked at Namjoon with sad eyes, wishing there was a way to protect him from the atrocities of his world, to make him see only goodness and kindness.

 

“Seokjin, please,” Namjoon said, dipping his head to Seokjin’s neck so he could nibble on the soft skin there.

 

“Darling, ah- ah!” Seokjin gasped, his fingers threading in Namjoon’s hair – short compared to his own – and he tugged nice and firmly. “Darling, are you sure? Tonight was awful for you and-”

 

“I need to be reminded that some good exists in this world. I need to be reminded that life and love exists even in this… this death mill!”

 

“Oh Namjoon.”

 

“I need to be reminded that there’s goodness and love in this place. That slaves don’t need to turn on each other, that we can support each other and support our gladiators. That we’ll survive.”

 

“Namjoon… how much of this is Jungkook and how much is… well, Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, pulling back from him as the topic began to grow even more painful.

 

“Both. We almost lost Jungkook today, but I lost Yoongi a long time ago,” Namjoon replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

 

“Don’t think about them. Either of them. There’s nothing you can do about it. Jungkook will survive but he must suffer through pain first and, well, Yoongi’s a lost cause. He’ll suffer in this life because he wants to. He’ll die miserable and alone,” Seokjin said firmly, trying to navigate this conversation to a less stressful place. “He doesn’t deserve your thoughts.”

 

“Seokjin-ah.”

 

“Namjoon, let’s just forget about it. Forget about them tonight… we’ve got each other and that’s all that matters,” Seokjin added, to coax Namjoon into relaxing again. That’s all he wanted for tonight… thoughts of Jungkook and Yoongi can wait until the morning.

 

The water splashed again as they returned together; lapping higher and higher at their skin as they moved with each other.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi dropped the cloth he had been holding when he heard Seokjin speak his name. The door had been left ever so slightly ajar – fools, yes, but barely anyone bathed at this time, and no masters ventured into the slave quarters so it was a forgivable error.

 

The cloth didn’t make a sound when it hit the floor.

 

Not that they would have heard it anyway.

 

Yoongi bent down to pick it up slowly and folded it again and again until it was a tight square, his breathing hard as the conversation floated into his ears.

 

He was lost.

 

He suffers. He’ll die miserable, he’ll die alone.

 

He’s not deserving.

 

Not deserving.

 

And they’re fucking again.

 

“Goddamn it,” Yoongi hissed, abandoning his plans for a late night bath; head pounding at the thought of the conversation he had just overheard.

 

Namjoon had abandoned him; had decided Seokjin was worth saving when he got free, not Yoongi. Namjoon had whipped his back bloody and probably taken pleasure in it. And they cruelly mocked him, likely while one was firmly seated on the other’s cock.

 

Yoongi hated them. He hated them for so many reasons.

 

He walked.

 

He walked across the home, out of the slave quarters, passed the room Jungkook was unconscious in - the room Seokjin should be in; and he found himself outside Doyun’s office room.

 

“It’s late,” Doyun muttered, hardly looking up from his brush and parchment, buried in post-match financial work. “What do you want, slave?”

 

Yoongi didn’t even think before he spoke:

 

“Master. Namjoon and Seokjin are fucking in the slave baths.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YUP. That happened.
> 
> That was always going to happen.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts.


End file.
